Knapping the Bone
by Fjord Mustang
Summary: My take a la Heinlein on the HTTYD DVD short feature "Legend of the Boneknapper." There was a whole lot going on you did not know, especially since Toothless got left behind. NOT your typical kiddie or your grandma's version of a certain DVD tale.
1. Chapter Won

**Knapping the Bone: A Short Novel of a Short Movie**

**Disclaimer:** Yes, it is a word that has ten letters. And I also don't own the characters in this story. Dreamworks (ten letters) and Cressida Cowell (fourteen letters) do.

And a grateful "Thank you" to **Catnip-Packet** for her movie rendition of the story that you can find here on this site. It helped to read her story for the dialogue and plot as a way to make sure I captured the essence of the story the right way. I had to watch the DVD story again for this, and being able to match what I heard against her accurate retelling was a nice way to make sure I heard things correctly. All mistakes in this story, though, are mine.

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><p>Yup. It's me. I am putting up a Hiccup and Toothless novella while I continue to work on "Blindspot." I had several people ask me when I would go back to Berk, and I myself miss that. I decided to put in a silly short story (novella) I created in response to the "Legend of the Boneknapper" short feature from the HTTYD expanded DVD. I was one of those who was not fond of that feature because it seemed to deviate so much from the drama and adventure and the intelligent humor of the movie. Instead, it seemed more like the recent Dreamworks movies that focused on toilet jokes and underwear jokes. And they seemed to have left behind completely the whole central theme of the bond between Toothless and Hiccup. There was no HiccupToothless bond in this short feature, but there were some nice shots of Gobber taking a leak against a rock and waxing eloquent on underwear. Go figure.

Anyway, I was starting to write a Heinlein version of this just as a wonderful young lady name "AndyMeatball" started to write a more palatable (and very promising) version of the "Legend of the Boneknapper." on her DA Account. Sadly, she closed her DA account for personal reasons, so that project never got done.

So, I wanted to pick up the ball and run with it, though I could never get it the way she did. This one, instead, is a Heinleinized version. That means lots of behind the scenes and hidden motives that play along in their own side plot to what was in the DVD. After all, Toothless got left behind. He had to so _something_ while Gobber was chasing Boneknappers.

This is just some filler and a novella. I do plan to jump into my other post HTTYD Berk fanfics when I finish "Blind Spot," which is coming to a conclusion of its own soon.

Thanks for believing in my crazy stories, and for reading this story. I hope you like it!

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong> (Nothing like being to the point) in which the following happens:

* Spring Fever

* Blacksmith tutoring

* Attack of the Enablers!

* Everyone needs a little Boondocks now and then

* How to Blow off Steam

* Fiddlehead fern recipes for fun and profit

* Dialogue between the Generations!

* Flying instructions vs. walking instructions

* The Faroe Islands rule! (At least according to the inhabitants of the Faroe Islands)

* Identity Theft Issues

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><p>"That's it, lad. You just lift it up... like so. Position it right. Then apply the right pressure... little more to the right. There you go. Good, good. It's coming along nicely."<p>

I lay on my side and flicked an ear, my eyes closed. The sun was streaming with just the right amount of warmth, and I was content.

It had been a cold winter, and even though it was early spring, my body's ability to maximize or dissipate heat made this weak ray of sun feel like I was lounging on a hot summertime rock.

Gobber's voice was soothing, and it helped increase my enjoyment of this early spring day.

I heard my Rider shifting to follow his mentor's advice and the sound of metal ring out as it struck something. Or something struck it.

I did enjoy listening to the Firemaker-for-Fire-maker's voice as he tutored my young Firemaker.

"It's really up to how you put the pressure. Ya hafta have the right touch, Hiccup. Too little and ya get no results. Too much and everything just collapses."

There were so many things this large man could teach my Rider. He may have had a face that looked bored and dimwitted, but his eyes were sharp, as was his mind. Firemakers who misjudged him as slow-witted learned the hard way this man was someone you did not trifle with.

These blacksmiths are pretty amazing. They can take ordinary metals and apply the fire that jumps out of their hands. And then they bang it with the hammers- those extra feet they attach to their front paws- whoops- I mean hands. (I am still learning Firemaker anatomy, so bear with me, kiddies).

And then the iron becomes something different! Sometimes it is shaped into the weapons, the large fangs they call swords and spears, but then there are things that are for non fighting purposes, like the iron bowls they put over the fire to boil their meals. Those are simple and yet so nicely crafted. I've had plenty of time to enjoy usefulness of the food preparation bowls as I lick the leftovers out of them when Hiccup and his father, the red furred alpha male, are not looking.

"It's not easy," I heard Hiccup say, his voice tight with concentration, "Every time I think I have the right amount of force I turn out to be wrong."

Gobber's voice remained as warm as the sunshine felt on my dragon hide, "It takes time. Ya can't rush it. After all, yer teaching your body to apply motion in a different way, one it's not used to. But, over time, you'll realize it gets easier and easier. Just be patient."

Gobber was a genius in his field. His knowledge. His experience. There were things only he could teach Hiccup. And he was good at it.

"Yer gettin' better at it. Now, c'mon. Once more. It's just a matter of putting a bit more swing into it- that'll give ya the force you need. You'll see. Now give it a try, lad. On the count of three. _Einn, tveir, þrír... núna!"_

"Here goes... something!"

And something... went.

I heard the sound of metal hitting the ground awkwardly and then a body hitting the ground.

Awkwardly.

_"Arrrgh! Helvítis, aftur og aftur!" _Hiccup swore softly.

I raised my head up and pricked my ear sensors, a quiet growl slipping past my lips.

_Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. What am I doing? Lying in the sun when I should be paying more attention to my Rider!_

Wind puffed around me as the pale golden-green of new leaves fluttered and birds sang in the branches above.

By the way, if you haven't guessed, we weren't in the black smith shop. We were actually on a hill outside the village, and my Rider now was sprawled out on the ground, face down. He raised his head, lips pulled back from teeth clenched in frustration. His long hair fell over his eyes, but I could still see his irritation through the screen of untrimmed hair.

Gobber stood above him,looking down with patient kindness, "Ye almost got it, Hiccup. Just needed a little more movement with the leg. Try again. You're getting it."

He held out the arm with the flesh and blood hand on it, not the one with the wooden hook, and he balanced himself, distributing his weight between his real foot and the wooden limb.

Hiccup looked up and nodded, then reached a hand to grab Gobber´s. The large-framed Firemaker-for-Firemakers, pulled his apprentice up, helping the youth to stand again on his feet.

One of Hiccup´s lower legs was flesh and blood. The other was a Firemaker-crafted half leg and foot made of wood and iron and springs.

As I mentioned before, there were things only Gobber could teach Hiccup. And he was good at it.

"Ya, okay, Hiccup?" Gobber asked, casually leaning so Hiccup could balance against him, yet making it look like Hiccup was not leaning against him.

Vikings and their pride. They are almost as bad as we Lightning People.

Hiccup nodded, glancing down at his leg. That fall had hurt him- I could pick up the pain from our bond link. It was sharp and dull and hot and cold and every negative sensation you could think of tossed into a bucket and mixed with lots of salt.

_:::So annoying,::: I _heard from him- and I think he was tossing that thought my way. He'd come worlds closer to communicating his thoughts to me, though were still working on him getting better about picking up the thoughts I communicated to him, _::I can still feel my leg and yet it's not there And it still hurts.::_

Gobber squeezed his young protégé's hand in paternal affection, "C'mon. Let's do it again, then. You did almost get it there. It took you longer to fall."

"Oooh, y'mean I increased my delayed fall reaction by one fourth of a breath? Wow. I'm becoming a master of gravity. I should have this down pat in about...oh... 200 years or so."

Gobber grinned wider, revealing a rather primitive looking fake tooth made of stone, "Is that ant years or human years?"

That got both men laughing, and I was glad for that. The laughter interlude was too short, however, and then Gobber nodded, "You know what to do. Proceed."

Hiccup let go of Gobber's hand to try again.

I growled softly, and both Firemakers glanced at me, taking in my rather casually flattened ears and eye pupils, now shrinking to mean feline mode.

"Toothless... what are you doing?" Hiccup asked me, his voice rising in a mixture of concern and irritation.

_::Letting your mentor know he needs to let you rest. You're hurting, and your skin is paler than usual. You can't push it, Hiccup.:: I_ lashed my long tail in irritation_, ::You've not been that long out of the sick bed.::_

Hiccup shook his head at me with a sigh, _:::Now's the time to master it, Toothless. It'll get harder to walk on the new limb if I wait. Please- work with us on this, okay?:::_

We'd had this debate many times, and he always had to go stubborn on me.

Good thing I could return the favor.

So, when Hiccup took a step and fell again, this time I turned on that good old Lightning Person speed, and he found himself falling smack against my velvety wings and shoulder. He then was leaning against my right shoulder, his own right leg sticking out awkwardly.

"TOOTHLESS!" both he and Gobber yelled at the same time.

I gave them both my gummy grin, and a nice little snarl to let them know _Toothless Does Not Approve._

Gobber placed his good hand on his hip and blew out between his teeth, making that amazing knotted face hair of his dance around his mouth, "That dragon o' yers is somethin', Hiccup."

_Indeed. I bask in your praise, Firemaker-for-Firemakers._

Hiccup's eyes were not in the least grateful to me. He glared at me and put his right leg down to rebalance himself. When he tried to lift his left hand from my shoulder to walk forward, I came right along with him. Step by step. And always just a little bit faster so would inevitably be forced to lean against me the pull of my gravity.

"This. Is. Really. Irritating," Hiccup sang to me softly.

I snorted nonchalantly. He had to deal with it. I was living up to a promise I had made to myself after Hiccup's burnt and broken body was hauled from my side as we both lay in the ashes of the Lady's attack. He had lost so much to save both the People and the Firemakers... and to give us the chance for a new start as allies instead of enemies.

In exchange, _I _would be his missing leg. _I _would balance him, protect him. Especially since this fake limb just was not easy for him to master. It hurt me to see how much he hurt when he fell (which happened on a regular basis). How many bruises wound around his legs and face from his falls. How many cuts on his legs he had gotten falling on the sharp stones stairs outside the chieftain's house.

One time he had even lost his balance and fallen backwards, cracking his head on the floor and knocking himself out. I had to go get Stoick to pick up Hiccup and and carry him off to bed. He regained consciousness not long after, but the concussion kept him in his bed for about a week.

So you can understand my concern that the fake limb was doing him more harm than good!

After that incident, I had berated myself for being lax on the job and, therefore, I doubled up the protection. My Rider had helped me master my amputated tail by making me a new tail fin and offering his services to help me fly. In a sense, because he turned the fin to help me fly, he was every bit a part of my prosthetic tail fin system as the tail fin and high tension shipping ropes and gears were. I could return the favor the only way I knew how- by offering my services to help him to walk again.

In a sense, I was part of _his _prosthetic system!

I just wish he would be a bit more grateful for my efforts and come around to my way of thinking.

Gobber gave one more hiss between his teeth and then said, quite calmly, "Well, looks like we canna' be arguin' with His Majesty o' the Night Furies. I guess we'll call it a day. I hafta admit yer face is looking pale, Hiccup. Come up to my house and have a pint with me and we can talk about that new harness yer designin' for Firewyrm. Hope ye don´t mind sharin´ space with a sheep, but Phil has some manners, at least where guests are concerned. I trust that yer dragon will help ye get home?"

Hiccup laughed and pat my shoulder sadly, his eyebrows lifted in the Expression of Irony, "What can I say, Gobber? You're a psychic."

"Yeh. That's why I am so stinkin' rich from all those amazin' gamblin´ predictions I make tha' come true." the smith saluted his charge and then limped his own way back along the short walk to the main part of the village.

I watched how he moved, a large man with a prosthetic leg much more primitive that what my Fireworker used. He moved with confidence, but he also moved with an irregular, heavy limp, his body tilted in a lean in favor of his good left leg.

Well, thanks to having me at his side, Hiccup would be able to move much more smoothly than that. I would honor my promise to him.

"I could use a good beer. I really could," Hiccup said quietly to me, still patting me affectionately, "But I need to do something else first, bud. Let's go for it."

I could hear "isolation" in his thoughts like there was no tomorrow, so I knelt down for him to climb up on my back. He bit back a sigh but used my leg to climb aboard. He had been hoping to be able to hop on board in spite of the prosthetic, but both he and I had lost a lot of weight and muscle tone in our recovery, so he still needed to use my leg to climb on board. We both knew, though, once he fully recovered and started training again, he'd have the upper arm strength and right leg strength to hop up on me. Plus, he still intended to trick out the left side harness with some improvements that would help him spring aboard me even easier.

But that was the future. At the moment, my Rider was still recovering from his near-death incident in the Lady's Battle. The convalescence had made him lose weight he could not afford to lose, and it had been coming back very, very slowly. Still reed thin, without his usual wiry muscle tone, Hiccup was eager for the spring so he could train hard to condition them again. During our convalescence, we had both been fed a lot of broths and medicinal teas as we recovered- but the healers could only get them down our throats when we were semi conscious. The result meant we both sucked in enough broths and herbal infusions to keep us healing and alive. They were high in protein, but low in fat. So, both of us had lost a lot of weight in our recovery because we could not ingest enough of the richer high-fat broths to be able to fully thrive.

Of course, we were both making up for lost time. There were lots of jokes in the Viking Mead Hall and the dragon meeting grounds about how voracious Hiccup and I were as we gradually recovered. But we needed that extra fat and protein.

Hiccup managed to get himself on board me, settling himself in the saddle of my harness. I had now come to accept I needed it- so I wore it almost all the time during the day. At night and on quieter days I went harness free. Sometimes, if it was a short haul trip, Hiccup rode me bareback, running like horse and rider across the land rather than flying. I had come, over time, to like that galloping very much, although it was still a poor substitute for flying.

But today, I wore the harness and saddle, and Hiccup could clip himself on to me. It was a short, fun gallop and a few wonderful soars, accented by the salty air blowing in from the sea, and then I was bringing us down to the canyon where we first met.

Hiccup clicked the gears with his foot, and I responded just about as he clicked, picking up his intentions from his mind.

We soared gracefully into the canyon, now landing by a rustic, yet well maintained Finnish laavu shelter. The sign swinging from the head beam of the shelter read in runes that this humble dwelling was "Boondocks Manor."

It was primitive, but beautifully constructed and well maintained, a perfect shelter for a dragon and rider to do some soul searching.

Hiccup had planned this lovely little shelter as a place where he could escape to hang out with me when things got too unbearable for him back in the village. After all, since he had been the designated all-purpose scapegoat and freak show attraction, he often ran away to pull his scattered thoughts back together after a bullying session.

Now he was a hero but, if anything, he needed the Boondocks Manor shelter more than ever to pull his thoughts back together. It's not easy going from the village freak show exhibit to the community's savior and hope of the future.

Boondocks Manor was not fancy, but it was comfortable, clean, well maintained and well designed.

Well- what would you expect from my Rider? (Except for the clean and tidy part, of course.)

Yes. Hiccup kept that lean-to quite cluttered, a vital requirement for a genius. Being Norse and having that Scandihoovian obsession with cleanliness, he kept the shelter scrubbed down and pleasant smelling of birch and lye soap. But his supplies and riding equipment had an annoying way of breeding while we were gone, since there always seemd to be more and more of it appearing over time. I do swear; inanimate objects these days just have NO morals!

The scent of birch and pine and the nearby ocean wafted into my nostrils as I landed. I immediately felt a satisfaction in my heart. Once this forested canyon and its little lake had been a prison for me, a place of failure. But it was that very canyon where I had found my true purpose in life, so coming back here was always special.

A gear clicked, and I made the last descent, swooping low over the floor, dank with the leaf mold from last summer, but also waiting for the new spring plants to burst forth. Dark, damp clumps of leaves scattered up as I landed. I snorted as a few shreds of old pine needles went up my nose, but their rich smell also sent a thrill to me, a promise of the coming spring.

Boondocks Manor waited: it was a simple, wooden shelter that sloped at a angle towards the ground. Constructed of close fitting logs and a flat, upward sloping log roof, it was open at the front. A dark fire circle positioned a distance away from the front indicated where the dinner campfire was built. It would be allowed to burn safely through the night, the unique shape of the laavu catching the heat and keeping the occupants comfortable and warm in their bed rolls. The concept of the laavu lean-to had been developed by the Finns, a blond-haired northern forest tribe that Viking Firemakers held in great awe for their often mystical way of understanding nature. Many Vikings believed the Finns had magical powers to forecast and control weather and to put curses on unwise Vikings who incurred their wrath. Some Vikings would even apprentice their children who had healer potential to learn herb lore and nature lore from friendly Finnish shamen.

Well, I don´t know about whether Finns can control the weather, but they sure had a great concept of camping shelters. I loved that laavu and the way it had sheltered my on rainy nights in the canyon. And, sometimes on a cold winter night, my Rider and I still would sneak out of the village after sunset to spend the night here. The fire kept the laavu toasty warm. There was something nice about sharing the evening, my Rider leaning against me, both of us watching the fire dance its sparks into the winter night sky, itself lit with its own star-sparks. I know I felt recharged when we flew back to Berk the next morning, and I am pretty sure my Rider did, as well.

I heard the clicks as my Rider freed himself from the saddle and pulled the prosthetic leg from the left pedal. It happened before I could kneel down, and suddenly I heard an annoyed yelp of pain as Hiccup came down to the ground on his left leg.

And then he was lying on his back, sprawled out in the leaf mold. I winced inside, berating myself for not kneeling fast enough. I could totally understand my Rider. He had not wanted to make me kneel, so he had leapt off me, but instincts had taken over. He´d come off on the left side, so his body automatically prepared him to land on his left leg first.

_::Hiccup, why didn't you wait for me to kneel?::_ I thought-sent to my Rider, purring in concern.

He did not hear me. Instead, he gritted his teeth and sat up, using my left leg to pull himself to a sitting position. His face was cold and his gestures stiff as he unbuckled the prosthetic. Then he threw it at a nearby tree. It smashed against the old larch, sending damp wood chips flying before it landed on the ground, undamaged.

"_**Djöfulsins andskott helvítis!"**_ Hiccup screamed, his voice ragged with anger. It caused a covey of Arctic grouse- their feathers now white from the winter snow- to burst out of some nearby juniper bushes.

I had heard Viking FIremakers use those words before. They are the Viking equivalent of the popular "Scorch it and frozen hells!" we People say when we are frustrated.

My Rider is a calm soul, but he has his days, and this was one of them. Given what he had come through, I could understand he had the right to blow his top from time to time. He just tried to make sure to never let that frustration come out around other Vikings.

He buried his face in his hands, his long red-brown hair spilling around his palms. His breathing was ragged, laced with anger, and echo of a growl rose in the back in his throat. I felt the tension rippling along his shoulders and down his back, and my own shoulders and back stiffened in sympathy.

_::It´s okay to be angry,:: _I sent to my Rider, leaning my head down to rest my muzzle against his burn-scarred face, _::Breathe hard, let it pass. I just wish you could let out a blast of fire and all the anger would go out with it- that's how we People- dragons- let our anger out.::_

"Well... Toothless... if you want to lend me some of your fire, I'd be happy to do just that. If it did not involve the slight annihilation of my hands" Hiccup lowered his hands and then encircled his scrawny arms around my neck. I leaned down more for him, and he hugged me, his face resting against my short, striped neck. My Rider did not cry. It takes a lot to make him cry, but he still desperately needed a way to release his frustration.

_::Don´t think about it. Just rest. Just... be. I'll be here if you need me.::_ I thought-sent.

For a moment there was silence, only the sound of our breaths and our heart beats and the far off ocean pounding against the rocks. I took hope when our breathing began to fall into tandem until we were matching each other.

Eventually his breathing slowed and calmed, as did his heart. I just let him rest against me, offering my support. It was part of the friendship we had developed; so much of it went beyond words, and we had many moments where just sitting together and appreciating each others' company was all that was needed. A great many things can be said without uttering a single word or mind-send transmission.

That´s one of the best benefits of having a friend, a bond brother. We support each other as the best of friends without any questions asked... and, often, without words.

The call of some impatient ravens in the birches above us made Hiccup look up. His wavy auburn hair now came down to his collarbone.

He sighed at the blue-black birds and stroked me gently on the space between the horn-shaped sensors on the top of my head. It's a hard spot to reach, and it made me purr.

"Oh, Toothless," he said hoarsely, "I don't know what to do, other than to be honest. I´m worried, okay?"

He shook hair out of his eyes and continued looking at the sunny sky, "It was a pretty snowy winter, so I could not get outside and train on this lovely fake limb as much as I wanted. And that infection on the leg after Yule did not help matters. So now I have to make up for lost time. The longer I wait, the harder it will be for me to use the prosthetic. I need your help for this, Toothless."

I remained quiet, letting him speak.

"I really do appreciate you're there to catch me when I fall, to be the shoulder to support me when I am tired," his voice floated softly over the early spring canyon, "It means a lot to me, Toothless. You were there to believe in me when others did not. It's why... why you´re my best friend."

I nudged Hiccup again, and he hugged me again, this time laying his head on my forehead.

_::Ditto, Firemaker. You believed in me - stood by me- when my own People abandoned me. How can I abandon you, now?::_

"Oh, Toothless. You're not abandoning me, buddy. Trust me on this. I know how you feel. I'd be acting the same way if I were in your shoes... oops- I mean paws- oops I mean, feet- claws- well, whatever- basic foot anatomy... thingie... whatsit. You get the idea, dragon!"

I licked him on the forehead to show my support- fish scented as my support was.

"But, Toothless, this time I need for you to be my friend by NOT supporting me. I have to learn the right way to move my leg- and that means, sometimes- well, okay a LOT of the time, I am going to fall. But falling is part of the learning." Hiccup pulled back his hand and then gave me a playful, affectionate snap of the fingers under my chin. I nipped playfully at his forelock, catching it in my mouth and licking it until it was soaking wet.

"Ugh- watch it! I just washed my hair last night, buddy."

I snorted, _::And you get it dragon washed today... buddy. Consider yourself blessed. Some Firemaker lady in the Byzantine Empire probably forks over a lot of your stupid gold flat gold and copper and silver pebbles for a bottle of dragon-spit hair soap. Probably thinks it is an aphrodesiac You get it... on the house... or should I say, the laavu?::_

"Last time I checked, I am not some lady in the Byzantine Empire. Unless, of course, I really _am_ a fine lady in the Byzantine Empire having some elaborate and really long dream about being a skinny one-legged Viking male dragon rider in some remote North Atlantic island village. And- how in any way is _that_ a dream of paradise? " He laughed softly, appreciating the stupid - and yet so invigorating- nerd banter he and I often had, "Anyone who dreams about Berk as being an escapist fantasy has some serious personality issues."

I flexed my wings and got ready to go get Hiccup´s prosthetic leg.

"Nah-uh-uh-uh! Allow me, okay?" There was more laughter in Hiccup's voice, which comforted me, "I threw it there, so I should bring it back. Fair is fair. Take a load off, Toothless. Enjoy the nice spring day. Listen to the beautiful vomit-like croaking of the ravens and be glad you are a Night Fury. I'll be right back.´

And he was. He crawled across the ground to the tree on two hands and two knees, but he crawled fast, and he was soon back at my side again, shaking wood chips off of the prosthetic limb. His mood had lightened in that crawl, and he was whistling a jaunty tune as he sat upright. He pulled up his leggings from where they had been rolled up at the base of his amputated leg. The stump ended just below the knee, the skin rippled where it had been folded onto itself over the leg bone and cauterized after the leg had been amputated. Luckily, the stump was red with soreness, but it was not bleeding, so he had not overexerted himself. Still, it was good he and Gobber had ended the exercise when they had.

I was also personally glad his leather leggings covered the upper leg, which still bore the scars of my teeth from where I had grabbed him to save him after the Red Death had knocked him from my back.

Hiccup finished tying adjusting the woolen stump guard and tying the cords. He hummed a bit as he tested them, "Y'okay. Got that taken care of. And I saw some fern fiddleheads... so we don't go back to Berk empty handed!"

This time, he did lean against me to stand up, but I felt this was only a compromise at the moment. I know I was not yet ready to stand back the next time he tried to throw himself at the ground getting used to that fake leg.

* * *

><p>"Nice job on the fiddleheads, son," Hiccup's father, the red-headed alpha male of the village, told his son.<p>

"Thanks, dad. And you did a fantastic job on the boiled water for the soup."

"What can I say, Hiccup? It's a gift. I may not be able to cook as well you or your mom... but I can boil water with the best of them."

"I can't dispute that, dad. You've really got the boiled water down beautifully. I'd have flooded the kitchen by now- created Berk's only hot springs."

I heard the Firemakers talk as I lounged in the upper beam of the main floor ceiling. This was where the Haddock clan stored their sausages and smoked meats, tying them around the beams where they stayed safe until it was time to eat them… and where they continued to get seasoned by the cooking smoke.

I had no interest in this salty, seasoned food. I had already eaten a lot of fresh fish I had caught earlier at Boondocks Manor, and I was content.

"Nah, Hiccup- yer too hard on yourself. I boil water well. Hooray. But, then, there's you, son. Quietly cooking for us after your mom passed on. Cooking her recipes. Just you cooking for us and keeping us fed. And well fed at that- the meals tasted great And I never said thank you for that."

For a moment Hiccup was quiet, just staring at his plate, no doubt letting those words sink in. Then he raised his head and smiled at his father.

"No need to, Dad. I like good tasting food, too. And I didn't mind cooking it. FIddleheads are nothing. You just heat up some chopped salt meat and then fry it with garlic and onions. Then toss in the ferns, salt, pepper and there you go!"

"Pity the fiddleheads only come at such a short time of the year," Hiccup's massive father nodded at his son, "They are such a treat- the first fresh greens of the season!"

"I know- I only took a few," HIccup said, popping one of the nutrient-rich, crunchy savory greens into his mouth, "I don't want to kill of the ferns. But a few are nice. So, enjoy!"

I had tried one and found it was pleasant, but it did not put a claw notch on the lovely Sky Grass we dragons crave so much it makes us lose our dignity just to roll in the herbs.

The Firemakers talked softly, the cooking fire crackling in the center of the house. It had been a bit quiet at first, these meal times- after all, there was no much to talk about and yet no easy way to start a conversation! Guilt and anger had helped to break the barriers between them, but now they had to deal with that very guilt and anger. How do you deal with the fact that your own father banished you, and by your tribe's standards, you deserved it? Or that you banished your only child, had not listened to him, and he had been trying to protect you and the tribe because his information was true?

It took many stiffly polite mealtimes and the house had almost been icy with too much forced courtesy. But gradually the two had started to lose their stiffness, to use daily events and their interpretations on them as a way to "dance" closer and closer to each other's view. The going was slow, but it was still moving forward.

Fishlegs' Lava Person, the oldest and wisest of us village dragons, had put it well to me one night when he had lounged by the Yule bonfire.

_::It's like when we People lick a wound clean, Toothless:: _Oakheart had purred softly, ::_Sometimes the wound hurts so much that we can't clean it right away. So we needs must lick around the edges, cleaning it slowly, letting the skin around the wound ease and stop hurting. And then, only then, can we get to the heart of the wound itself so healing can take place.::_

I rested a while longer, breathing in the scents of fire and meat soup and fiddlehead ferns, and the older scents of the smoked lamb and fish hanging below me.

And then my sensors tingled a little, letting me know the time for the Sunset Calling was close. It would be a foggy night, so the Signalers would need to be on duty. And that meant I was on duty, too.

I thumped down to the ground, snapping my wings to shake the sleep tingles from them. I trotted to the door, Hiccup and his father watching me in mild curiosity. This was old habit for them, now, and they knew I was an independent creature. I came and went as I pleased. They were Vikings and they respected freedom, but they were also happy that I returned each morning even though I could have gone back into the wild- lack of tail fin or not.

But why wouldn't I return? These were my people and my home. I loved them all the more because they let me wander as I willed. As Oakheart once quoted me from a manuscript he had eaten from a Welsh monastery, "Trust is a rare currency, but it is a valued one, too, because it is so rare".

I grabbed the rope lever Hiccup had rigged to the door in my teeth and pulled it downwards, unlatching the door and heading into the night.

But I turned back to nod my farewells to my Firemaker friends. Hiccup had already removed my saddle and harness for the night, so I did not need him to assist me with that.

"Have fun, devil!" Stoick called to me, "You know the way back in."

"Take care, Toothless!" Hiccup saluted me jokingly, "And, if you have the inclination to be a hero, can you bring back some firewood from the pile outside the house when you've finished conquering the world?"

I actually did not intend to stay inside tonight, if I could help it. I sensed tonight would be cool but very pleasant for a Lightning Person like me, hatched in cooler climates.

But I still chirruped a farewell and trotted down the stone stairs, descending down the hill to Berk proper. And all that implies.

* * *

><p>"Hullo, Toothless!" the burly brown haired sentry at the town entrance called to me, nodding his helmeted head. The saddled and harnessed Magnesium Person behind him purred a greeting to me as well, thumping her quilled tail on the ground in a sign of respect.<p>

_::I greet you, Firedrake.::_ She sent to me, head lowered.

I gave them both a grin and then cantered up the hill, away from the village- and towards a tall boulder that was already becoming scraped up with my claw marks. I bunched my haunches and leapt up onto the rock, the red artificial tail fin sailing behind me as I did so. My claws dug into the rock as I settled down, sinking into a crouch.

Tendrils of fog danced in from the sea, shrouding the dim pricks of stars in the deep blue sky. I sucked in the air, tasting the salt, the seaweed, the clean scents of living fish and crustaceans, the rich, earthy spring aromas of the leaf mold. It was a sweet perfume, even if there were no Sky Grass mixed in. I may have been born in the glacial and hot spring threaded mountains of Central Asia, but the North Atlantic ocean life agreed well with me.

_::He's right, ye know, boyo::_ a silvery voice, richly lined with good cheer echoed in my mind.

_::Evenin', Gracie. And do you mind telling me who 'he' is? We have quite a few males running around this excuse for an island, if you have not noticed.::_

_::Oh, aren't we a clever lad?:: _

Wings thrummed and then a graceful, cat sized emerald green dragon landed next to me. Unlike most dragons, she did not have spots or stripes, but there were nice shadings of red and gold and cream that wound across her abdomen and splashed up her sides. Tiny horns twisted, antelope-like, from her head. Her orange and red- speckled wings were quite large for her small size, and when she unfurled them, they would stretch out wider than most Firemaker men' stood tall. We People need vastly wide wing spans to help us fly. My own are considered the widest wing spans of the Eurasian dragon species.

I have noticed most Firemaker manuscript illuminators and tapestry artists tend to grossly underestimate how long our wingspans are until they see us in the scaly flesh.

The little Person's spiky tail was half again as long as she was, and it ended in a perky little barbed fork. However, her claws and paws were her greatest weapons, next to her sticky firepower. Those dextrous paws were dangerously close to resembling a Firemaker's own front paws_- oops_- hands. And, with her long claws, she could manipulate Firemaker objects almost as well as the Firemakers themselves.

It made her the ideal Person to bond with the village's black smith. She had bonded with Gobber, and though she jokingly called him her Rider, she was the one who rode on his shoulder. But, if you define a Rider as a good friend, than she and Gobber were very well matched. She served him as all around help in the black smith shop, her quick claws and love of innovations making her a useful set of extra paws- and both Gobber and Hiccup appreciated that. Now that they were commissioned more and more to make harnesses for dragons and weapons that could be used by Firemakers riding on dragons, Hiccup and Gobber needed a dragon partner who could assist. And Gracie had come through beautifully. And they all benefitted from the extra payment and barter trades their commissions brought the forge.

Gracie was an excellent example of a Sticky Fire Person, what the Firemakers call Table Terrors. Yes, it is a strange name, but the Vikings give all of us dragons strange names. The exception is my tribe's name. _Nightfurygetdown_, is full of majesty and shows how much they respect our kind. Well, being a Nightfurygetdown, I have excellent hearing. I am pretty sure I heard Sticky Fire People being called "Table Terrors" by the Birch Island Viking Firemakers.

I am rarely wrong on these things.

Gracie cut her amber and gold eyes at me, blinking in the affectionate way that we People do when we are casual friends. I returned it with my gummy grin.

_::Well, you're just stating the obvious, Gracie. Of course I am a clever lad. I _am_ a Lightning Person.:: _

_::Humble, too, you are. Good thing your stocky shoulders and legs can support that swollen head of yers, boyo.:: _She flipped her wings shut to her back, and they folded down neat and small- no Firemaker could ever guess now just how vast her wings were for her size :_:But I like your arrogance, Toothless. It's quite cute. Ye have the guts to state yer own mind, and you live by yer words. And that's a great and powerful thing to admire, 'tis. _

_:: Oh, and by "he" I _meant your Rider.::

I waited while she preened her neck with a back paw, eyes closed in pleasure. A few old scales flaked off and bounced on the stone surface. Emerald hide sparkled beneath the shed scales.

Then she smiled at me, dragon style, _::He does need ye to step back a bit. You've been a great and powerful protector for him, but this time he has to make his own steps, he does. Can ye remember what ye had to do to learn how to fly, Toothless?:_:

_::Of course::_ I snorted in affection, opening my curled up position and raising a wing so little Gracie could curl up against me and share her warmth with me on this beautiful, mist strewn evening.

:_:And...?:: _Gracie purred softly, her golden eyes meeting my gray-green eyes.

_::Every kitten knows this, Gracie. We take off. Then we fall to the ground. When we hit the ground...then... we... know... how... to.. ::_

The thought settled in my mind with a thud, but not an unwelcome one. I took a breath in and blew it out softly, a plume of moist mist curling from my mouth, :_:... to... fly? Oh. We People have to fall first to know how to fly.:: _I ducked my head in quiet respect, ::_I get the message, little lady:_:

:_:None of us could fly if our parents did not let us fall:: _Gracie trilled and rubbed her head against my striped shoulder, :_:Yer grand stuff, Toothless-Fire Drake. And yer Hiccup loves ye like life itself. All of us can see it. It will work out, I think. But, I just wanted to toss in me point of view. It's a fair view of the world I have, methinks, even if I live with a Viking blacksmith and the world's most stoic sheep. It makes me look like the sane one of the house, it does. And that's sayin' yards and yards.::_

_::Point taken, Gracie.:: _Then I thumped my tail politely as we heard the thrilling trill of my People, the LIghtning People Signalers, calling in their Signalers for the night.

At one time I would have been perched on a stone on an island quite far from here, but I had learned new ways. This humble stone outside of the Birch Island village of Berk worked just fine for me. Amazingly enough, I could juggle my duties as a Bond partner and as a Signaler quite well through the winter. I did wonder, as the weather got warmer, and Viking wanderlust set in- would I be able to continue being both the First Rider's partner/diplomat to dragons/Firemakers... AND a signaler?

_::Call out your positions, brothers and sisters!:: _The rich, soothing voice of the Elder floated to us from her position in the Seal Islands, :_: I am the Elder of the Seal Islands! All is well, here!::_

::_I am Firepine of Northern Iceland. All is well here:: _ another voice echoed

_::Sandwhisper of the Hilt Islands. A night of fog,but of calm and cool. All is well:: t_he quiet, accented voice of the one Fury who was not from Eurasia, but rather from East Africa, called to us.

_::Deepwinterwind of the Westman Islands and the Southern Iceland. I am here. Greetings to you all!::_

_::Hello, all! I am Cloudburst of Eysturoy, Suðuroy, Streymoy, Koltur, Hestur, Borðoy, Svínoy, Mýkines, Vágar, Skúvoy, Sandoy, Kálsoy, Fugloy, Víðoy, Stóra Dímon, Nólsoy, Tvígeyjar...::_

::We get the point!:: FIrepine laughed, ::_You love where you work, Cloudburst.::_

_::SHEEP ISLANDS ALL THE WAY!:: _ Cloudburst roared in joy, _::If it's not Faroese, it's crap!::_

I pulled in my breath to call out my name and my island chain, the largest one of all the Signalers: Toothless of the Isles on the Edge of the Sea.

But before I could Signal my location, someone else cut over my transmission, perfectly naming my Signalling region and perfectly laying down the geography coorindates.

I let my sensors drop in confusion. I snarled, a sound echoed by all my colleagues.

Odds against odds, somehow a dragon had intercepted my original Signal stone on my far off island and was now pretending to be me.

And, whoever it was, this Person was NOT a Signaler.

How had a non Lightning Person managed to break into our network?

* * *

><p>Hope you liked it. Let me know what you think, as always! I write weird stuff, so I am always grateful for people to give my silly ideas a try.<p>

And I do believe weird = good, but you have to earn your readers' respect that your version of weird = good.

Anyway, the chapter subjects were inspired by Terry Pratchett's novels "Going Postal" and "Making Money." He never uses chapters in his Discworld stories, but he tried it in these two novels and decided to add funny little blurbs about what was in each chapter, imitating what some Victorian writers used to do in their novels they published chapter by chapter in magazines. (Charles Dickens anyone?) He has a funny way of doing this. I am a poor imitation, but I had fun trying the idea in this story.


	2. Chapter, Too

**Knapping the Bone**

**Chapter, Too**

Thanks for reading my first chapter and for your comments and suggestions!

Here's where I start splitting off from the DVD short, which probably had to rush the plot along to fit its running time. And some of the character reactions are different from those shown in the short, as is Gobber's behavior. Hope that doesn't bother anyone, but there will be a reason for it.

Also, the fire fighting scenes come across as taking place very slowly considering how fast fires burn, but I based that off of the perception that during an emergency, time seems to slow down for the participants. Scientists believe this is an illusion the mind causes because such intense events cause "denser", more complex memories, giving the impression of the event happening more slowly than it actually did.

And a grateful "Thank you" to **Catnip-Packet** for her movie rendition of the story that you can find here on this site. It helped to read her story for the dialogue and plot as a way to make sure I captured the essence of the story the right way. I had to watch the DVD story again for this, and being able to match what I heard against her accurate retelling was a nice way to make sure I heard things correctly. All mistakes in this story, though, are mine.

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> "How To Twain Youw Dwagon", "Wegend of the Boneknappew" and theiw chawactews pwetty much aww bewong to Cwessida Coweww and Dweamwowks. Oh, dat scwewy wabbit! (P.S.- I love you, Rinkworks Dialectizer)

**Chapter Two-** In which the following happens:

* Quantum mechanics: It could happen to you!

* A refreshing discussion of corporal punishment for Identify Theft

* When and when not to reveal a secret identity

* Reflections on nightmares and their ability to be irritating

* Dragons and fire science

* The classical debate about reality versus myth

* Unconventional fire starting materials

* Hypothetical missions

* * *

><p><em>::Well, now, <em>there's_ something you don't come across too often!:_: Firepine quipped as if this were a grand joke.

_::Yes,::_ added Cloudburst, desperately needing to out-quip Firepine, _::See, it _is _possible to be in two places at one time, Toothless!::_

_::Silence!::_ the Elder snarled, :_:This is not a joke, junior. Someone is trying to steal our brother's identity. Toothless- I don't believe he - or she- gave your name.::_

I shook my head from where I crouched on my Signal rock, fog shrouds swirling around Gracie and me. The Sticky Fire Person quietly lay against me and watched, her golden- orange eyes large. She knew what Signalers were about, and she kept quiet, letting all of us carry out our business. But her gaze showed her bewilderment at the intruder.

I nodded at her and continued communicating with my colleagues, _::No. I am pretty sure it was a 'he', but he gave no names. He only identified himself as the Signaler from the Isles on the Edge of the Sea. But the coordinates were very accurate.::_

_::I caught that, too:: _Sandwhisper's quietly husky thought voice danced like gently-trickling spice-scented sand through our sensors, _::And that he is not a Lightning Person. The signature thought-harmonic was close to the Lightning Person-harmonic, but something about the pattern seemed off.::_

I added my snarl to the Elder's quietly steady rumbling, :_:Something is very odd- a non Lightning Person should not be able to Signal like this.::_

_::Indeed. And you know what to do, Toothless.::_ The Elder said,

Oh, did I! (If I had Firemaker hands, I would have rubbed them together and chuckled in evil glee.) So I sent my Signal out the correct way and I sent it in a stronger frequency, a more intense one than the strange one that had come from my former island.

_::Hear me well, all you People in this area! I, Toothless, am Signaling, and _**I**_ am the Signaler of the Isles at the Edge of the Sea! Listen to my voice and I will direct you if lost. The other voice you heard is a false Signal.::_

_::He Signals True. We support him and trust him:: _ Five powerful Signal calls from my region backed up my own call, reinforcing it.

Our calls collided with the strangely reedy one emanating from my former island. Something about the interrupting frequencies made me think of ripples spreading out in a pond, each ripple caused by a large stone. They all formed out and burst into the boundaries of the "ripple" of the intruder, scattering it, shredding it into something so feeble no dragon could tune into it.

Yet something still bubbled in the frequencies from my former island, but not as clearly. Before, it had been brilliantly strong when it carried the coordinates and call sign. Now it was shaky and no match for us. The user only seemed to know my coordinates, as if memorized, but beyond that, it could not deal with the adroit data management and echo location techniques we Lightning People have developed over the eons.

My colleagues threw coordinates and questions at the interloper, challenging him to respond to their echo locations. Of course he could not meet their challenges. And that was what they intended. Only a Lightning Person Signaler could read those coordinates. So they proved him wrong fair and square.

_::You are an intruder. Leave before we destroy your mind. If that thing you're using is considered a mind._:: the Elder snarled softly.

He, oddly, did not seem bothered by it, _::Gotcha! You have no sense of humor. Typical Lightning People, the fabled Bureaucrats of the sky. Can't take a joke, ever! Well, it was fun while it lasted.:: _

A snarl rippled from six throats, and six angry, determined thoughts built up like a united thunderhead.

Oh, the implications of that statement about this being "fun!" His games could seriously maim or kill dragons who believed he knew what he was doing. And it would be safe to assume he did not have the Lightning Person Signaler's flawless sense of coordinates.

So many innocent People could be led astray and out into the hostile, stormy North Atlantic by an impostor giving wrong coordinates. A young migrating pod out to start a new colony? A trained healer and assistant rushing to help quell a sickness or dire injury? A wise diplomat trying to reach warring tribes to settle a dispute before it erupted into a dangerous inter tribal war? My sector was considered one of the most dangerous in Eurasia because of the fog, high winds, steep cliffs and unpredictable weather. Any Person who missed the turn could be blown to sea, drifting lost until exhaustion brought him or her down to a watery grave.

This was no one's idea of "fun!"

_::Hear you, charlatan!:: _the Elder roared in her calm but dangerous way, _:: This is no joke! Assuming a Signaler's identify is serious business! Such a serious crime results in some sort of light and refreshing penalty like having your throat torn out slowly. Actually, it's more like having your throat shredded out so you enjoy the sensation. And the salt water sprinkled on the wound is a nice extra touch. Just so you know what pleasantries await you when we catch you.::_

The response came, shaky and yet the shakiness seemed to come from laughter:: _Thank you, my dear Lady-Elder. As the trope goes, good Sky Bureaucrats, forewarned is forearmed. But I would dearly love it if you could find my throat. Actually, _I_ would dearly love it if _I_ could find _my_ throat!::_

_:Wha-ha-ha-ha?:: _Cloudburst seemed ready to topple from his Signal Stone in surprise, _::He's not making any sense! He's not all there! Elder, I'll be more than happy to let him know that. Please let me tell him that? Pleasepleaseplease? ::_

We were all ahead of the youngling Signaler on this one. Deepwinterwind even sent a mental chuckle and the advice, :_:Don't feed the dragon-trolls, young 'un.::_

Our unwelcome friend sent us a message that trailed off into the emptiness:

_::Drakes and dragonesses, I have now left the island.::_

And then there was only silence from my former Signal stone.

* * *

><p>Well,<em> that<em> left a mystery on our paws! We all spent some time discussing that and how some of my colleagues needed to fly to my former island to scope it out. I would have been happy to lend a paw, but it would have meant me manipulating... whoops- I mean, strongly suggesting to my Rider a reason to explore my island.

It is a nice island, but even I am the first to admit it has few things that would interest a Firemaker- or a Lightning Person, for that matter to take a picnic trip there. And it was going to be hard for me to lure Hiccup there without blowing our cover. My Rider still had not yet discovered that his blue-black, fierce-faced but cute Nightfurygetdown of Mass Destruction was actually part of a huge, international chain of Nightfurygetdowns called Signalers. Our task was to guide dragonfolk safely through dangerous terrain and unclear weather conditions using our acute echo location.

I had no doubt it would slightly freak my Rider out to make that discovery. To be honest, I looked forward to that freaking out, but I wanted it to happen in a time and place where Hiccup could peacefully accept the information in a gentle way. Of course, followed by a fun aerial net-fishing session and some nice back scratching and wrestling and such.

My Rider is a rational, open minded sort. However, like any Firemaker, if you force something as odd as the Signaler concept on him he might go all primate on me. (Hmmmm... going back to his roots? ) But if I could ease him into it,I think he would be be open to the Signaler concept.

And, as the first dragon who apparently has accepted a Rider on my back, I strongly am against coercion. A Rider and his Person have to be a team. I will NOT trick or kidnap Hiccup to accept my view.

So I had to rely on the mercy of my colleagues and hope they could explore the island on my behalf. We parted in uncertainty.

Gracie and I rubbed muzzles and we also parted company, but she tossed a thought my way to just think over what she had suggested... and that everything she heard tonight would remain a secret as far as she was concerned.

Good old Gracie.

And, in spite of my former plans, I did collect that firewood (just a few logs in the jaws- no great shakes) to toss on the Haddock woodpile. My Rider was still awake and sensed me, so he let me in when I bumped my head against the door. I could have used the door opening device he attached to the front door that let me unlatch the door with a nudge from my front paw, but I like the old timey methods, too, especially if the Firemakers happen to be awake, anyway.

I rubbed against him and purred. He responded the favor, Firemaker-like, with a nice, strong neck hug and scratching down my itchy neck and shoulders. He thanked me for the firewood.

I curled near the central fire place, not far from Hiccup's bed. He had used to sleep on the upper floor, but his bed had been moved down here until he got used to navigating the steps on his prosthetic or, when necessary, on one leg and a crutch.

Before I went to sleep, I was suddenly aware of the scent of clean bed sheets smelling of dried, soothing herbs. Hiccup had pulled his bedding over to me and curled up beside me, using his covers . For a mattress, he used a neatly stowed bed roll he kept washed and ready in the storage chest under his bed. I adjusted myself so we were curled against each other, and then we drifted off to sleep while the night fire burnt low, releasing sweet scents of birch, oak, pine and some blueberry and thyme leaves tossed in for their soothing odor.

I purred a good night to my Rider. He said something to me, blurred in sleepiness, and I drifted myself to sleep, following the soothing, sleeping breaths of my Rider, his hand resting on my shoulder as if to connect my dreams to his.

* * *

><p>Dreams are something I really don't mind, especially when they involve: a) salmon, b) flying madly through the heavens, c) playing with my sisters in the icy glacier palisades of my home mountain, or d) a pretty Lightning Person dragoness with a well-turned set of wings.<p>

And it's even better when it is all of the above!

Nope, dreams are no problem! It's nightmares I find incredibly irritating, especially when they involve: a) massive, uncontrollable fire, b) my Rider in danger, c) me failing at something (again and again and again) and d) the reincarnation of nasty foes that I swore I had vanquished.

It's even worse when it is all of the above. Rather like my current nightmare.

I have The Famous Falling Nightmare quite often, and I am sure Hiccup does, too, judging from how often he has awakened screaming and slick with fear-sweat.

It has many variations, and they have all been quite unpleasant. Like a badly-told story from a poorly trained Viking-Firemaker skald, the plot remains the same with each telling, it's just the scenery that changes.

Sometimes the nightmare has Hiccup and I fall into a volcano in the Pamir Mountains. Sometimes we fall into a fiery lake populated by those hideous Concussion People. In my nightmares, sometimes we've plunged into a sea of boiling Firemaker blood, the air thick with iron-scents. One time, I even watched Hiccup fall into the Eurasian Steppes where a grass fire raged.

Tonight's edition of the Famous Falling Nightmare had to rank among the top five versions since it involved a particular being I found very, very unpleasant company.

The Famous Falling Nightmare pretty much started the same, ever-so-charming way.

The Lady's spiked tail slammed into us, knocking Hiccup off my back, sending both of us spinning in opposite directions.

I rolled in the air and watched Hiccup falling, still feebly struggling, into the firewall below me, ruined left leg bent unnaturally.

I screamed and dove down, letting gravity carry me towards my best friend, trying to reach for him, to snap my teeth on him and stop his fall into the flames.

And then gravity decided to take a holiday! I stopped falling, just hovering in the reddened sky, stretching my jaws and roaring in frustration.

_**::Come on, what's the rush, handsome?::**_ the husky, feminine thought-voice filled my sensors. It was Mindspeech that summed up the primal power of females across a life cycle, packaged in one very lovely voice. It was the seductive lilt of a nubile youngling in season, the loving, watchful, soothing tones of a mother comforting her young kittens, and the wise, protectively-loving guidance of an elder leading her Tribe into its future.

The voice continued_**, ::Why not just enjoy the moment, little cripple?::**_

I tried to push against the strange invisible barrier holding me in place. A saucily-beautiful Lightning Person winked at me as she circled around me in flight, her velvety wings shadowed with ghosts of spots and stripes.

**::Hi there, darling! Lovely night for a campfire, no?::**

She obviously had worked out some deal with the local gravity since she had no problem flying around. Of course, _she_ would. The Lady seems to manipulate everyone.

In her young Lightning Person form, the Lady then dropped down gracefully, her flawless wings plunging. She actually caught my Rider, stopping his fall with her front claws. And none too gently, I might add.

I shut my eyes and moaned in agony at how brutally she stooped my best friend, putting me in mind a falcon snapping up an injured mouse.

His fragile, battered body dangled sickly from her front claws as she held him like a Firemaker would hold a captured worm before impaling it on a fishhook.

The injured young man moaned in pain from the sudden impact, staring madly at her for a moment out of his bloodshot green eyes before sliding back into unconsciousness.

_**::Is this what you're trying to catch, dear one?::**_ she asked me, **::**_**I had no idea you were interested in collecting vermin for pets. Rats, mice, crickets, roaches, Firemakers- they're all such filthy, disgusting beasts!::**_

She looked at me with sad, loving disappointment in her deep, greenish eyes,_**:: How many times have I told you this? it's better to kill vermin before they get too numerous and dangerous. Especially THIS particular creature. He seems small, but he's especially dangerous for his kind. But…::**_ she sighed sadly and shook her head, _**:: You never seem to learn, my wayward kitten..::**_

_::I am pretty sure we defeated and killed you, Lady. If fact, I KNOW we killed you!:: _ I snarled back at her, _:: You seem to have some problem with your memory, oh senile one.::_

The Lady laughed seductively at me, her voice deep and rich and oh-so-sexy.

_::__**And, yet, here I hold your pathetic little vermin in my claws. And you seem not to be able to do anything about it. Oh…. Arrrgh! Filthy beast! Its very presence burns my paws**__!:: _

She hissed and let Hiccup drop from her claws.

Hiccup was falling again, and the Lady's eyes became sweet and cutely-seductive, _**::Oh, dearie me, I am just sooo clumsy! Oh, well. Can't be helped. Bye, bye Firemaker. Have a nice fall!::**_

I roared at her in anger, throwing myself against the invisible barricade to no avail.

**::**_**Don't struggle, darling. I am doing it for your sake, little cripple-little slave. He's holding you back- that's why you are trapped now and cannot move. Once he dies, you'll come out of this fully healed and stronger than ever. It's worth**__**the sacrifice. You're a Lightning Person- your high and mighty Tribe knows **_**all**_** about noble sacrifice. At least you let the rest of the world know about it ad nauseam.::**_

Somehow in this miserable excuse for a nightmare, my Rider was falling far more slowly than he should. I guess this was so I could enjoy every moment of guilt and self hate to the fullest.

I hate the way nightmares do that.

The Lady's sweet, warm breath blew against my muzzle as she affectionately rubbed hers against mine.

Yes, she might be in her Lightning Person form... a young and nubile Lightning Person at that, one well aware of her alluring attributes. But I knew the Lady better than that. Her demeanor and scent might be sweet and her voice a rich purr, but nothing could hide the corruption in her thought voice. I swear, under the layer of sandalwood and patchouli, I still could smell maggots burrowing in a festered wound!

Oh, yes! Such sweet purring and promises. Yet they did not hide that horrible, horrible view below me. My brave and battered Hiccup, bloody, his burnt clothes hanging off his bony yet resilient frame, one leg dangling shattered beyond recovery. He fell beneath my grasping paws. I again reached to grab him, but I could not move, and he continued to fall, broken and brave, into the flames of his funeral pyre.

He must have recovered consciousness again just before he hit the flames; he cried in pain and also screamed my name, "Toothless- save yourself! Don't worry about me! Get out of here. Do it! Live, Toothless! Live.. for me!"

And he was too weak to fight back, so he disappeared into the flames. I struggled against the strange barrier holding me in place.

Useless. Useless!

The Lady purred, _::__**Oh, I am such a poor hostess! You must be so tired after all that struggling, darling. Well, just sit back and relax there. Well, actually I guess you have no choice. Can I get you a drink? How about some fresh blood served nice and warm and salty in a Firemaker skull? It really **_**is**_** very nice. It goes down well watching one's Rider burn to death.. Especially that moment when the skin melts from the bones and their eyeballs bubble and melt oh- so- cutely from their skull sockets. **_

_::Shut up… just shut up! You're dead! Go back to being dead and leave me in peace, evil one! Oh, Hiccup! I am sorry, I am sorry! I failed you!::_

_::__**Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Buck up, little kitten. Be brave. Don't think of it as a loss. Think of it as a birthday, dear little cripple. It's the first day of your new life as a fully healed and stronger Lightning Breather without a nasty Rider crippling you. Hush, now. Wipe away those tears. No one should cry on his birthday. **_

I was _not_ crying- I was too shocked- but I she was doing her level best to insult me, putting me in my place like a little kitten who had lost his favorite chew toy.

Her voice purred into my ear sensors, tickling the nerves with an unwelcome but horribly pleasant sensation, _**::Happy Birthday to you, Lightning Person.::**_

I roared in horror, _::Never! Never! Never! I won't believe you! Hiccup is not dead! We __**killed**__ you, Hiccup and I! What in the name of the frozen hells are you doing here? Go away! You don't belong here! Go haunt someone else's dreams, you manipulating bitch!::_

The Lady chuckled, _::__**You're so cute when you get annoyed.::**_

Suddenly, she stopped sending her thought voice. Her perky little Lightning Person nose wrinkled. If I didn't know the evil soul under that form, I would have melted in enchanted joy to see such a cute and sexy dragoness.

Then _my_ nose wrinkled, too! The air had become smokier and smokier, and now it smelled uncomfortably acrid.

The Lady gave a snort to clear her nostrils_, __**::Seems like you have worse fires to worry about at the moment**_**.::**

I roared at her, leaping at her jugular, doing anything I could to avenge my poor Rider.

_**::Later, little cripple, little slave. 'Til later….:: **_her thought voice stroked my sensors and then faded off.

* * *

><p>And then, suddenly, warm arms were pressed around me as I roared, and I smelled Hiccup's familiar scent, clean and kind. His weight lay against my shoulders as I thrashed.<p>

I also smelled thick, bitter smoke wafting through the windows of the house. It collided with the sweet birch and blueberry scent of the Haddocks' hearth fire.

Hiccup was crooning to me, softly, chanting a little poem I did not understand, but its rhythm was soothing. And, though his thoughts were scattered, I could pick up his concern.

He had been dreaming of falling into the fire after our battle with the Lady, the same as I had. Somehow one of us was hooking into the others' dream.

Nothing new. We should be used to it by now. However, we still weren't.

He kept reassuring me, stroking me, telling me all was fine. He was fine. We had both survived.

_::Thank you, Firemaker::_ I told him softly as he stroked my nose, but I also saw that he was shaking, and his eyes were unfocused, glazed in the memory of that moment he had been knocked from my back and into the fire by the Lady's spiked tail. He had looked unconscious to me, but I later found out he had still been semi conscious: aware enough to have felt the pain of the fall and know he was falling to his death. The last thing he'd clearly seen had been me diving at him. Even though not able still see, he still had been full of pain and fear until we hit the ground, and even shortly after that, until he passed out. Those are some terrifying memories to have in one's mind. And they haunted his dreams.

So I crooned him a lullaby- song from my People:

_You may be small, but your fire is bright_

_It lights the way, keeps my path tonight_

_Embers seem faint but they only wait_

_For the time they must lend their light._

Simple and trite, but sometimes those silly kittenish verses carry some truth in them. I rather loved it when my crooning and Hiccup's singing actually, strangely, harmonized in the last few notes so even though we sang in two different tongues, Norse and dragon crooning, the notes we used blended sweetly for a few beats of the heart. Both he and I picked up on it, and I think it soothed us.

But then a new sound cut into our thoughts. I now realize it had probably been going on for some time, but I had not been aware of it. Perhaps that sound had influenced both our nightmares.

It was a Viking Firemaker fire bell. I'd heard that klaxon before, in my days before I bonded with Hiccup. But then I had heard it as a familiar background sound when I had been an embedded spy, swooping in with an ensorcelled band of dragon People as they came to raid the village.

Those klaxons rang mainly because we were the ones who started the fire.

It's ironic that only a few months later, that same call meant both Person and Firemaker were putting out fires together. And we Firemaker-bonded People were no longer the ones causing the fires.

I now heard the ringing of the alarums from the watch tower, the blowing of the bronze horn from the mead hall and the thought-speech alarm-cry sent from the Person on watch with her blond Viking Firemaker.

They all had the same message.

_Berk is on fire! The village is burning! Assemble your troops by your unit and attack the fire! Destroy it now before Berk burns down!_

Of course, things were different! We People now stood by the Firemakers and helped them with firefighting. And in a village of wooden houses, fires were a common occurrence.

All the fires since our pact had been caused by human accidents. Or by Norse pirate invaders- since we lived in the Viking archipelago there were always chances of attacks from the less savory members of Hiccup's Nordic people.

Regardless of who caused it, we had a fire to fight! We were in Unit One- the Dorks and Damsels Great Sand Brigade. Hiccup and I also happened to be the Brigade Leaders- so we wanted to be there first!

I gently shook Hiccup's hands off my shoulder and quickly used my teeth to snap up the harness from where my Rider had hung it from its wall pegs. Within seconds, I had draped the saddle and harness around neck, chest and shoulders as Hiccup blindingly-fast pulled on yesterday's clothes from where they hung on his bed post.

Then he clipped the harness rings around my front legs and strapped the neck and chest bands tight and secure in just a few seconds.

I pulled the prepared burlap sacks of sand from the walls where they were stashed. At the same time, Hiccup skillfully strapped on his prosthetic limb, and the various test drills we had done ensured he did it in record time. Finally, he tied a leather headband around his brow to keep his unevenly-long hair from his eyes.

Between the two of us, in moments we were harnessed up- dressed up- suited up for fire fighting.

Everything was looking up!

It was all thanks to the village drills and Hiccup and Stoick making sure there were always freshly prepared fire sacks and first aid kits (inspected once a week) ready to go in the Haddock home.

I do have to add our speed was greatly aided by Stoick, who had joined us to help us prepare as the alarums sounded. He assisted with fastening my harness, tossing Hiccup's flight harness to him, all the while never saying a word. We three were a well oiled machine.

But I was pleased Hiccup and I broke our records, assembling faster than we ever had. And Stoick had helped with that. He saluted Hiccup and I and ran to the command point, lugging some buckets with him to fill with sand or sea water.

Soon, Hiccup and I were galloping out of the house, my Rider pulling himself onto me, using my forward momentum to propel him onto my back. I tossed my left shoulder to help him into the saddle.

I galloped down the hill to the main square as I heard Hiccup clip himself onto my saddle and stick his prosthetic into my left pedal-stirrup. As the second saddle clip clicked in place, I launched into the air, smoke laden wind blasting into my face. My wings beat down, taking us higher, but Hiccup clicked the tail fin to level us out and low. We needed to still be in earshot of the others.

We hovered in a circle, low over the square. Hiccup shouted, his voice carrying surprisingly well, "Sand Brigade Number One, over here!"

I sent the same message through Thought-speech, and soon we were joined by a mix of Firemaker dragons and Riders of the lighter-boned species: mainly Magnesium Breathers and some well coordinated Sticky Fire People carrying sand buckets rigged to be carried between their forearms. People and Firemakers both carried previously stashed sand bags or water buckets.

Below us, the village was dark except for candlelight and the distant fire glow from the Sea Sentinels. However, there was one house that was blooming red fire, sending its flames to the sky.

"Oh no," Hiccup breathed from my back, clutching the handgrip of my neck harness "Gobber's house is on fire! And where is he?"

_::And Gracie? And that idiot of a sheep?::_ I thought sent.

"Yo, we're all here, Haddock!" I heard a Firemaker's voice drift up as a cluster of brilliantly colored Magnesium People and Sticky Fire People ringed around us, faces looking up in expectation., "Dorks and Damsels, reporting for duty, all present, sir!"

The speaker was the blond Firemaker who had been on the watch earlier this evening, his beautifully-patterned Magnesium Person tossing her birdlike head in anticipation, "We're ready, boss! We're yours to command, as long as it's legal, moral and ethical."

That pulled Hiccup from his concern about Gobber and he yelled back, "Excellent speed, everyone! We'll pat ourselves on the backs later. Right now, we got some fire to fight!"

He called out the orders, using codes we had worked for maneuvers. Everyone listened, eyes full of respect. Codes saved time, and time mattered in a fire. When Hiccup called "Strike four-three-two-side and out!" they knew their fire fighting pattern right away. And when he called, "Stoick's center!" they knew it meant Stoick's orders from the ground were the top command. He coordinated how all our units fit together.

"Right-ho, then, Dorks and Damsels! Let's go!"

Cheers burst from throats as Hiccup's unit took off, joining units of other fire fighters. It showed the change in the times that the men in Hiccup's unit were pleased to be called dorks. Their unit leader said the word "dork" as a joke, but they all knew that Hiccup's courage and quietly-competent leadership skills had shown that the word "dork" was just another way of saying "hero."

We all shot toward the fire, Hiccup emptying his sand bag, followed by his team of Riders, tossing in the contents of their sand bags and buckets. We timed it so there was almost no lag between sand dumps, so the section we attacked started to smolder as sand choked off the oxygen.

Then we headed down to the beach to pick up more sandbags. As we flew off, I heard and sensed the thundering wings of Firewyrm, our village's sole Self Burner, as she came in right behind us, her stocky, dark-haired Firemaker with the ram horned helmet tossing a sizable bucket of sand onto the house. They smoothly picked up the slack from us.

As they did so, I heard Hiccup's father call in his calm, strong voice, "The wind is shifting! Fire Brigade Unit Number Two, move it! Bring the Nutters in from the South!"

(Yes, Stoick actually said Nutters! I _am_ a Lightning Person and our hearing is very good.)

"We're on it!" a blond young woman's voice called as she flew overhead on Skybird, her blue and gold and red Magnesium Person, leading the second unit of multicolored Magnesium People. This unit's nickname was One Fell Swoop.

They dumped more sand on the house, continuing to choke off the fire in an almost uninterrupted barrage. The young woman at the lead, Ástríður Hofgeirsdóttir, pumped her fist in affirmation and praise of her unit's swiftness.

Then our unit was at the beach, soaring down by Vikings who tossed up bags of sand to us. The bags had been filled as part of regular daily duties, stacked into piles and waiting for possible fires. However, even now, burly Viking Firemakers were shoveling new sand into new bags and sea water into buckets for the other brigades who were manning water duty.

Before dragons, the Firemakers had to rely on water bucket brigades manned by their younglings. Now that we People could carry sand bags across our necks and shoulders, that enabled the Vikings to use sand as well as water. Sand could put out fires very fast, especially grease fires, and there was plenty of it around this crazy island.

And back to the fire we flew, tearing the air before us with our speed. We dumped our sand loads, followed again by Firewyrm and the Nutter Fire Unit Number Two.

The small built but swiftly-skilled leader of Unit Two/One Fell Swoop saluted my Rider as our units crossed paths, her hair flying behind her in a tightly woven, thick blond braid.

"Good job, Sneeze!" she called to Hiccup encouragingly.

"It's Hiccup, remember?" he called back to her, "And good job, ya dumb Swede!"

"Thanks, but I'm not a dumb Swede, I'm a dumb Norwegian, Sneeze!" she called back, her voice fading as her unit flew on, all throwing challenging, friendly taunts at the Dorks and Damsels unit. The insults were both in Norse and dragon roars. We, of course, tossed 'em back as good as we got 'em.

It's always better to give than to receive.

The flames leapt down lower, now choking in sand, but we needed a heavier barrage of sand to choke them out completely.

"Unit three!" the red furred alpha male- Hiccup's father- called in his strong, calm voice, "Grumbles! Aim for the roof! Now!"

(I am pretty sure he said "Grumbles!" That is the Firemaker term for the heavily-built, well-armored Lava People. Strange names the Viking Firemakers give our People)

"Got it!" a young male teenager Firemaker's voice floated over head just as a unit of Lava Breathers (aka Grumbles) flew in, led by a stocky blond youth riding Oakheart, the dignified, powerfully built Lava Breather whose thought-voice melted the hearts of most dragonesses in its rich intelligence and depth.

_::Come, my armored brethren, we shall defeat the fiery tongues of Hades and Cerberus and the common sand shall be our ally, transformed into the bolts of the Sky Lady herself::_ Oakheart's deep, rich thought voice was an inspiration to all of us People who fought the fire.

His burly rider, balancing himself in the saddle stirrups considerately, tossed a huge bucket of sand on the roof. Oakheart, also carrying a bucket in his front claws, dumped it onto the fire. The brigade of Lava People behind them (Unit Number Three, Rock and Rumble) dumped in sand tossed by both Firemaker and Lava Person.

The heavy barrage of sand on the roof quenched the fire, and soon it was only red sparks dancing in gray, sand-filled framework.

Then our Dorks and Damsels unit was flying back again, Hiccup gesturing the flight maneuver pattern with his fist. Everyone in the Dorks and Damsels brigade spilled his or her sand bags, one by one, and soon there was only a cloud of sand surrounding the house and only a few patches of fire.

Firewyrm and her Rider, Snotlout, dumped their sand load again, and soon Unit Number Two,led by the blond Magnesium Breather's rider, was there to dump their load.

The Grumbles/Lava People attacked the roof one more time, and then our unit was back again, tossing the next barrage of sand on the now graying, diminishing fire.

"Good work!" called Stoick to all our units, "Just a few hot spots left! Come back in, units! Let the ground crews do their work! Good job everyone, human and dragon!"

As he spoke, Hiccup gave the "All clear" sign with his hand while I sent the message to the People in our unit.

Our troop hared off, heading our usual mustering place to disband as I soared in sleek and fast, bringing our unit leader down to the supreme commander.

I came in nice and smooth. (Well, what would you expect from a Lightning Person?)I slid into a canter and then eased into a walk where I stopped in front of Stoick, dipping my head in respect.

He nodded solemnly and bowed to me.

I took the opportunity to kneel, seemingly in respect, but mostly so my Rider could slide off of me. Hiccup did so with skill, sliding off to land on the ground in what seemed one fluid motion.

Of course, the fact I balanced him so he could lean against me as he came off helped a lot, and I shadowed him as he moved, so his hand was always on my shoulder, balancing him and supporting him so he moved smoothly- rather than limping- towards Stoick.

I like to think most outside observers would have just thought Hiccup seamlessly leapt off me and ran up to Stoick with no sign of limping on his leg. Ah, we Lightning People/Nightfurygetdowns are just the ultimate in subterfuge, no?

"Good work, Unit Leader." Stoick called to his son, and the younger man saluted. Stoick nodded and clapped his son on the shoulder. Though Hiccup was so slender next to his father and barely came up to that man's chest, he matched his father's gaze for pride and love.

Stoick's face was fierce but his eyes also gleamed with pride as he nodded at Hiccup.

I could still pick up Hiccup's worry, though, as he called to his father, "Dad, where's Gobber? Is.. is he still inside?"

Stoick rubbed at his smoke blackened face and sleepy eyes. He sighed heavily and met his son's gaze: both of their eyes grey-green, but Stoick's flecked with silver while Hiccup's were flecked with gold.

Stoick's voice was laced with tiredness and soft pride in his son, "No, Hiccup. I'm afraid we can't find him."

Hiccup's breath caught in his throat as he leaned against my shoulder, mouth open and unable to voice the dread in his mind.

Then a familiar and very beloved voice cut through the air, "I'm right here!"

We all turned to see a smoke stained Gobber limp up from his house, which was, thankfully, still able to be salvaged.

Gobber was pushing a wheelbarrow of items he had grabbed while escaping the flames. To my untrained eyes, the contents mostly looked like the materials he and Hiccup used to make their amazing inventions. But it was mixed in with a few items of clothing and household utensils.

Behind him proudly strode a sandy-white Northern European Short-tailed Sheep with that breed's typical wiry, double layered coat, back-angled horns and dark face. Both male and females of this species have horns coming from their forehead. The rams' horns grow longer and curl beside the face. This ram, however, was one of the rare ones blessed with four horns: two huge straight horns grew from his forehead and two traditional ram horns from the side of his head.

Firemakers have a fondness towards unusual features in their domestic animals, it seems, which explains why this particular ram was kept as a companion pet (and wool source) - and not the course of the day- at the blacksmith shop.

A trip Gobber had taken to Gaul during his wandering years as a youth was the reason for the ram's very un-Norse name: The Delayed Filet. "Filet", or "Phil" wore the typical Berk sheep look of extreme "Been there done that (insert yawn here)". He looked totally bored. A lifetime of living among dragons, crazy weather and pirate invaders will do that to you.

I'd chased Phil (sorry, I meant _met him_) during my first visit to the village when Hiccup and I had been wielded together during one of our experiments to fly. The scrawny youth had needed to take me to the blacksmith shop so he could grab the tools to free me. I admit, it had been quite fun chasing the Delayed Filet, even though I had wound up literally dragging Hiccup behind me as I went after the sheep.

Luckily for my future interactions with Gobber, I had only wound up just scaring Phil rather than eating him. But that sheep still seemed to hold a grudge against me. The look he gave me was a special one compared to the nonchalant look he gave everyone else. It was still sleepy and bored, but apparently it was only _mostly _sleepy and bored.

Well, to me, Birch Island sheep look bored all the time, but apparently you need a sheep whisperer to interpret their true feelings.

Enter the resident sheep whisperer.

I felt a light weight on my saddle and suddenly Gracie was perching herself there, wearing a tiny rope harness for carrying and tossing a bucket of sand into the fire. She had been one of the swift moving and very welcome Sticky Fire People serving in Hiccup's Unit. They are small but very intelligent, and they had no trouble following the mental orders I gave them.

She chirped a greeting to me and then purred in worry.

:_:Ohhh, poor Phil. Poor sheep. He's so terrified by this, he is. And am I not wishing I could put him at ease? .:: _ Gracie's thought voice was weighted in empathy.

I looked at said terrified sheep. He still followed behind Gobber, eyes half closed, chewing on some dried grass. He stopped to yawn and then to scratch his neck with a hind leg. Eyes still half lidded, he looked back at the smoking house and yawned again, showing square yellow teeth.

_::Awww::_ Gracie purred in concern, _::He's stressed out, he is, poor Delayed Filet. And isn't it a tragedy that I can't help him? The sweet gombeen ram must fight his own battle against his inner demons, he must. ::_

Phil the sheep closed his eyes completely. He yawned one additional time, dropped his head and fell into a calm sleep, snoring nonchalantly.

Gracie sighed in empathy for her house mate's extreme angst.

I snorted, :_:You obviously can read sheep emotions better than I can, Gracie.::_

Gobber, on the other hand, was more willing to show his stress.

"That beast will pay for this!" he shouted at Stoick- and by extension Hiccup and I- his good hand raised in frustration.

"Gobber, what happened?" Stoick asked softly, worry lacing his voice as he ran a hand across his tired-looking face.

"What does it look like?" Gobber barked to Stoick, stretching both arms to indicate the wheelbarrow and the burnt remains of his home, "In case ye did not notice, friend, a dragon just set my home on fire!"

_That_ was like opening a flask of eels!

:_:What dragon?:: _I sent to Hiccup, _::None of us attacks homes anymore!::_

Suddenly all Firemaker eyes within the next few hundred miles all seemed to be looking at Gobber skeptically, several chatting in suspicion and surprise. I even heard a few statements along the lines of, "I _knew_ we couldn't trust the scaled bastards!"

Their concerns were reaffirmed when Gobber strode past Stoick and stuck his good arm to the deep night sky, punctured with its many stars.

"You've pushed me TOO FAR this time, YA UGLY BAG O' BONES!" Gobber called bravely into the night, a Norse hero vowing vengeance on those who had murdered his kith and kin.

Gobber's voice was oddly strained, and its surreal quality seemed eerie to all of us. I haven't been around Firemakers long, but the look in Gobber's pale blue eyes was oddly similar to when my People had been ensorcelled by the Lady.

Hiccup leaned against me, very, very puzzled, his scrawny arms crossed on his chest.

"What's gotten into him?" he whispered to me, "Gobber NEVER acts like that. He LIKES dragons! He even has a dragon to help him in the forge, for Þór's sake!"

The youth scratched my shoulders and turned to his father, "Dad, what's Gobber talking about? Everyone knows by now— dragons don´t do this!"

Stoick shifted uncomfortably, "Ah... he doesn´t mean one of _your_ dragons, Hiccup."

Irritation crossed my friend's freckled face, "They're not _my_ dragons, dad! They´re intelligent beings- no one _own_s them! They _choose_ to be our friends. And they're very fond of us. And why can´t people still understand the dragons in this region _don´t mean humans harm_?"

"Easy, Hiccup! You canna' expect things to change overnight, son. After three hundred years of fighting dragons, it's going to take time for people to relax around dragons! " Stoick could not help the irritation in _his_ voice, either.

"I know, dad. I wanna understand. But why blame the dragons for this without getting proof, first? I _know_ the dragons did not cause this fire!"

Anger iced my Rider´s voice as the built up frustration against his father began to fray, "But it's not like people around here are famous for being open minded! No, sir, it's easier to outlaw someone trying to... uh... than to- ohhhh- _damn_ it, I didn't mean to say that!" Hiccup bit his tongue and covered his mouth, before he spoke any more, red lines creeping up his pale face.

"Hiccup, enough! Calm yourself before we both say things we don´t mean!" Stoick's voice was firm and strong, but I could still sense a deep sorrow in his words.

Hiccup clamped his mouth further shut, pulled his hand away from his mouth and glared angrily at his father.

The handsome older man returned the stare, anger and deep self hatred in his eyes.

Then Stoick took a breath, and sighed, dropping his head.

"Sorry, son. I-I- didn't ... I. It´s just it´s... I had ... "

Hiccup closed his eyes, too, "It's nothing, dad. Okay. Just forget I said anything."

I winced inwardly, sensing the anger they still had towards each other in spite of their love for one another.

_:::I went too far on that one. Dad didn't deserve that.:::_ I picked up that thought from Hiccup_, :::But he doesn't understand the Hel I went through because of that outlawing. My own father, damn it!:::_

I sighed sadly. This broken rookery wall was going to take a long time to mend.

Loud discussions had erupted while Hiccup and his dad had been talking.

Gobber was quite angry now, cursing. But at least he was not blaming all of my People but one particular dragon nemesis. (I cocked my sensors, trying to make sure he wasn't referring to me. I _had_, after all, tried to eat his sheep.)

Stoick sighed and then cut off Gobber's conversation, "Gobber, for the last time, there's no such thing as a..."

" 'A Boneknapper' you were going to say, Stoick?" Gobber returned the favor and cut off the chief, "Of_ course_ there is! It's in the Dragon Manual. Big picture on page fifteen and sixteen, ugly as a drunken ogre with pox A drunken ogre l_awye_r with pox!"

"Just because it's in the Manual doesn't mean it really exists. Some things in there are probably legends," said a blond haired, heavy set woman known as Phlegma the Fierce. She had bonded with a Doubleheaded Person, "And that one is just too strange to be real."

By now a band of five adolescent Firemakers had gathered around Hiccup and I. They were the riders of the First Five. Those were the original Kill Ring People who had joined Hiccup and I- along with their young Firemakers- in the attack on the Lady.

One of the teens, a very tall, thin blond youth with strangely tangled waist-length hair (and a strong aversion to bath soap), decided to join the conversation, "The _wha_t-knapper? Someone explain, please?"

"_Someone_ hasn't read the Dragon Manual," a voice among the teens sang sarcastically and an equally tall, thin blond young woman with intricately and neatly-braided hair smacked the smelly, knotted-hair youth on his helmeted head.

"Shut up, _kerling_! It's not like _you've _read it, either, dear sister!" he retorted, stomping on her foot.

'Well, at least I bathe more often than once a century, swine breath."

Gobber's voice cut their further retorts short.

"So ya didn't read the Dragon Manual, Tuffnut? Or you, Ruffnut! Well, well, well. Now, _that's_ a surprise, twins!" Gobber advanced on the two blond youths, waving his hand with the hook on it.

The twins took a step back, keeping out of hook-slashing distance. The look in their eyes was as puzzled as Hiccup´s. They must also have found Gobber's behavior weird.

Behind them, twin growls bubbled up among the People coming to watch this free carnival show. I recognized the twin voice of the Doublehead Person who had bonded with both the twins, angrily warning Gobber to keep his distance from his beloved riders.

Deafness seemed to be a part of this new and strange Gobber.

"Well, Sir Þorsteinsson and M´lady Þorsteinsdóttir, if ya had read it, you´d _know_ why you should fear the Boneknapper! It's a disgustin´, foul beastie wearin' a coat of stolen dragon bones. It´s born with a smooth coat, yet it gradually covers itself through its lifetime with scavenged bones until it looks like a giant, flyin' _skeleton_!"

"Ooh! Ooh! Yes! And there's more awesomeness as well!" Fishlegs, the heavyset blond youth who led the Lava People's unit with Oakheart suddenly appeared by the skeptical twins, holding his hand up as though he were in one of the Firemaker classes, "The Dragon Manual also says that the Boneknapper will stop at nothing to find the _perfect_ bone to build its coat of armor! It's just... uh, well, ...AWESOME!"

Somehow the twins managed to perfectly synchronize their rolling eyes. An amazing feat. Even more amazing, the Doubleheaded Person behind them also rolled his four eyes in perfect synch, causing several People around the Doublehead to croon in admiration.

Stoick forced a laugh to break the tension, "Come on, Gobber. It's a myth. No one has seen such a strange creature! It doesn't exist! How would it even be able to make other dragons' bones stick to its body? Or be able to fly with bone armor on its wings if you say it´s completely covered in bones?"

"I'm tellin' ya, it's real!" Gobber retorted back to Stoick, turning to point his good hand at the other Firemakers clustered around him in a ring, "I´ve been running from it my whole life! And that Boneknapper's the one who started this fire!"

He held himself with pride and certainty, believing this, even if no one around him seemed to.

No one laughed, thankfully. Instead, everyone seemed to be a bit worried. It seemed this was most un Gobber-like behavior. What could have caused someone who might be a bit goofy but who was normally very calm and level headed, someone who was kind to those who needed protection, to act so irrationally?

Suddenly, Firemakers and People shifted. A burly, brown-haired Viking approached Stoick and saluted. He held out a sturdy iron pole. At the end of the pole hung a smoking, black, large piece of cloth.

I squinted at it and snorted. It still held its basic shape and resembled the bottom part of the two piece set of clothes my Rider wears under his tunic and leggings for extra warmth. It also provided an extra layer against woolen clothes, which can be very itchy, it seems. _Nærföt_, or small-clothes, as these Firemakers call them,

"Stoick," the Firemaker said with forced dignity, his face turning red, "We found Gobber's... small-clothes- I mean underwear- I mean skivvies- I mean... THIS-_whatever_ hanging from the stove. This-_whatever_ must have been what started the fire, sir."

No dragons. I sighed in relief, just as Hiccup did.

_::See? It's not dragons you Viking Firemakers should fear! It's arsonist underwear!:: _

Laughter rippled among the Firemakers. It was not mocking laughter at Gobber, but rather nervous relief. It truly seemed most Firemakers were happy the dragons were not the culprits!

Stoick affectionately asked Gobber, "Still think it's the Boneknapper, or just your small-clothes?"

"I don't _think_!" Gobber responded angrily, "I _ know_! Somehow, that dragon's found me again! Our ancient battle continues!"

The blacksmith added in a more vengeful voice. "Mark me well, Stoick. This dragon is pure evil."

Stoick held up a hand, "Gobber," he said, laying his hand on the forge maker's broad shoulder, "It's late, and we're all tired. Get some rest. We'll all have a better perspective tomorrow. And you're welcome to stay at our house, tonight, old friend. I think Hiccup and I would be very pleased if you would join us. You, Gracie, the... uh... sheep. You're all welcome."

Gobber put up some more resistance, but when his companions pointed out him the mist boiling in from the sea, even he could not deny sailing off right away was a foolish option. It was better to wait until the weather was more auspicious.

I found myself in more admiration than ever of Hiccup's father. That man was a very good leader, and he valued his villagers in his own strong-hearted way. He reasoned with the blacksmith, and urged Gobber to wait until the morning and stay at the Haddock home. And he urged other villagers to help their valued smith out.

Soon Gobber found himself not only with a place to stay for the night, but also donated furniture and goods to replace what the fire had burned and promises from village carpenters to rebuild the house at no fee. Next to the chieftain, the blacksmith was a Norse community's most important citizen. Gobber had proved his value as both a smith and a friend. People were lined up, wanting to help him, and many were worried about his odd behavior.

* * *

><p>Gobber slept on a guest pallet, and he dropped to sleep fast. Gracie, her harness now removed, curled up between Gobber's shoulder and neck and fell asleep, too, but her position was a guardian position. She would wake up fast if anything threatened her Firemaker companion.<p>

Or he tried to leave before daybreak.

Phil was happy enough to stay outside, grazing on hay, his face as bored as ever.

Hiccup and Stoick watched Gobber from the dining bench as they shared a night cap of mead.

"I'm pretty sure he'll try to go off on that promised journey," Stoick finally said, "And I'm worried. I know Gobber can usually take care of himself, but he's acting very odd. There's something about the set of his eyes that bothers me. He needs someone to watch him... find out why he's acting so strange."

Hiccup yawned from exhaustion, "Agreed, Dad." he said. He looked up at me where I curled in the rafters.

_:::You listening, Toothless?:::_

I yawned back, :_:Of course. Sounds like we'll be busy tomorrow, Firemaker.::_

Stoick smiled at his small-built son, "I have to manage the village, but if someone I trusted just happened to decide to go with Gobber when my friend just happened to decide to sneak off, I'd just happen to be quite understanding. Especially if that trusted someone were happening to bring along some other Viking warriors who also were fond of Gobber."

"Makes sense to me," Hiccup nodded, his voice rather monotone, but his eyes sparkling with humor, "Hope you find someone who will do that for you."

"Me, too," Stoick agreed in a bored voice, his eyes also sparkling, "But I am sure there's someone out there who would lend a hand to help a mentor and friend of his."

"I, agree," Hiccup said, taking another sip of mead, "You have some good thoughts there, dad. I'll try to think of someone."

"Thanks. Oh, and I just thought to mention, there's a boat with a purple dragon head that just might find itself easy to take with no resistance from guards. If it happens to untie itself and drift away, and Gobber happens to be on board with that sheep on board. And someone I trust happens also happens to be on the boat as well with some of his Viking friends... why, I certainly won't say anything. And, I imagine, the guards would not either."

Hiccup smiled at his father, "Sounds like an interesting idea to me. Hope you find someone to help you, dad."

"Me, too. Well, good night, Hiccup. If you have a friend in mind to help out with this mission with Gobber, then please let them know about it."

"Will do, dad. And... good night."

_::So, I guess you'll be sneaking onto that boat when Gobber does?:: _I asked Hiccup as he curled up in the bedroll by my side, setting his candle next to him on the floor.

_:::Who, me?::: he answered, :::Impossible. I'm just a little dorky teenage Norseman from some nowhere island near the Arctic Circle. :::_

I laughed, _::That's obvious. And, Hiccup, I'll see you at the boat tomorrow. You do know, I intend to be on that mission, too.::_

Hiccup reached a hand up to scratch my face before he blew out candle.

His nasally voice floated from the dark, soft and calm "Well, that's a given, Toothless. You need to be with us. I wouldn't want it to be any other way."

Me, neither. I fully intended to be on that boat with Hiccup and his teenage friends tomorrow.

Well, that's the problem with intentions. They´re just so... intended. Too bad reality doesn't always work based on intentions.

* * *

><p><strong>AN- ** Hope you liked it. I changed Phil's appearance slightly to provide a reason why a people who rely on sheep for food would keep one for a pet. The four hornedness trait was probably always unusual, but it was much more widespread in Eurasian sheep in ancient times. Seen as undesirable, it was eventually bred out of most sheep types. This was not the case in northwest Europe, where native sheep breeds maintained primitive traits, including their original variety of colors and the four hornedness gene. Among those types was a double-coated, short tailed breed raised by Vikings and taken with them when they settled the North Atlantic islands. Today, four-horned sheep are still found in parts of the British Isles and Iceland. Interestingly, in Iceland, four horned sheep are more likely to be colors other than white. Oh, both males and females can have four horns. Sometimes reality is stranger than fiction!

Okay. You can wake up now.


	3. Chapter DDD no glasses needed

**Chapter DDD (and you don't need special glasses to read it)**

**Disclaimer: **Don't own these characters. Oh, and also... please read the following without glasses:**  
><strong>

E

F P

T O Z

L P E D

P E C F D

E D F C Z P

F E L O P Z D

(If you have trouble reading this, please contact your nearest eye doctor. If you are a dragon and have trouble reading this, please stop chewing the dragon grass)

Also, a grateful "Thank you" to **Catnip-Packet** for her movie rendition of the story that you can find here on this site. It helped to read her story for the dialogue and plot as a way to make sure I captured the essence of the story the right way. I had to watch the DVD story again for this, and being able to match what I heard against her accurate retelling was a nice way to make sure I heard things correctly. All mistakes in this story, though, are mine.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3, in which the following aspects are examined:<strong>

*** **Therapeutic target practice

*** **Riders as opposed to riders

*** **Summer memories and relation to squirrel nut hoards

*** **Tracking escaping Blacksmiths, methods thereof

* Motivations for altruism/Lack of motivations for altruism

* Alpha male is not equal to big and strong

* Evidence that Vikings used detail art on their sailing boats

* Imposters ahoy!

* Alone again, naturally

* Kidnapped!

* A most curious paradox

* * *

><p>I stretched my neck out and yawned , letting my tongue loll out.<p>

Then I closed my mouth and snorted softly, flexing my neck and shoulders.

_:: Bring it on,::_ I said with soft determination.

A rock soared into the air, higher and higher. I watched it, tensing, my eyes narrowed to set my coordinates.

_**SWWWZZZZFZZZZZZZZZWAAAAAAP !**_ my indigo plasma bolt shot upward and smashed the sizable rock. The poor thing exploded into powdery bits that drifted to the ground. It never had a chance.

Since I was doing it from short range and not using a lot of energy, there was none of my trademark banshee call that impresses the Viking Firemakers so much.

_::I must say you're taking this very well, Toothless,::_ Skybird said. She was crouched into herself, fighting off a doze caused by from the solid, rapidly warming sunlight.

_:Very good,::_ added Gracie, flicking her long, ridged tail around her legs as she assessed the rapidly growing pile of dust and small pebbles, _::Want another one?::_

_::Maybe another round of ammunition, thanks.::_ I sent calmly, _::Then that should do it.::_

Actually, there weren't enough hours in the day to contain the amount of rocks I wanted to blow up. There probably not enough rocks on the _planet _to contain the amount of rocks I wanted to blow up.

Gracie must have picked up on how much effort it was taking me to keep calm, for she collected five more rocks. She wrapped her prehensile tail around one. With a sharp flick of her well muscled tail, the rock shot up into the air.

She immediately followed it with the other four with the staccato of driving rain.

Ahhh… a challenge was what I needed!

I positioned myself and leapt upwards, wings out, following the rocks. I managed to crack all of them in one plasma bolt as it swept in an arc towards them.

When I thudded back to the ground various dragons roared and chirped in admiration of my acrobatic skills and firepower.

:_:Beautiful, Toothless!::_

_::Go Firedrake, go!::_

_::Good on you!::_

Their honest joy at my skill warmed my heart and pushed the anger down a bit more. There they were, a collection of large dragons, well-armed and powerful. I was smaller than all of them except for the Sticky Fire People, and I had an amputated limb.

Yet, I had just done something most dragons would not have had the agility or precision to do. Unlike Firemakers, who equate height and strength with power and competence, we People know it's the smaller People who are the most dangerous of our kind.

I was done for a while, so I moved towards Skybird and sat down next to her.

The energetic, beautifully patterned Magnesium Person nudged over a wooden platter of freshly caught fish given to her by Ástríður's mother in the girl's absence.

Nodding my gratitude, I selected a plump, sweet smelling sea bass and tossed it down my throat. Rich hints of the sea complemented the savory, deep taste of its flesh. The pleasant flavors soothed me a bit.

Well, a supremely gnat -sized bit of a bit, anyway.

I then licked my paw and began cleaning my leopard-shaped head and sensors, ::_Thanks, Skybird. That was delicious::_

_::You're welcome, Toothless-Fire Drake. You've shared more than a few fish with me, so I owed you one.:: _

The Magnesium person opened her eyes fully and caught my gaze, ::_I wish there were some magic words or thoughts I could give you to put your heart at ease. Your Rider will return to you. All will be well.::_

I snarled in irritation and let myself flop to my side, the intensity of my fall causing some wet dirt clods to shower up around me.

_::I was supposed to go with the Firemaker teens and Gobber! But I got left behind! How can I relax knowing Hiccup's out there, crippled, possibly in danger? We're a team, scorch it!::_

_::He's not alone,:: _Skybird tried to soothe me, _::Our riders are all very good fighters, and they look up to Hiccup's leadership. They're not going to let him get hurt.::_

::_But they're searching for a very dangerous type of Person, a Boneknapper as they call it! They're going in over their head!::_

And another plasma bolt shot out from my muzzle, sizzling the newly emerging moss and grass around me.

_::Oy! Hey, Toothless! Contain yerself, laddie, will you?:: _Gracie leapt in the air, barely missing my plasma blast_, ::Sure, and I'm a beautiful and attractive dragoness and whatnot, but I prefer more subtle and gentler compliments.::_

_::Whoops. Sorry, Gracie! Honestly, I did not mean to hurt you!.::_

_:: Only just to kill me.::_ Gracie grumped.

_::Why aren't the rest of you upset about this?:: _ I asked the cluster of dragons who now had started to form around Skybird and me, _::Skybird, Oakheart, Firewyrm, Gracie, Cloudspinner- your riders are there with Hiccup! Aren´t you scared for them?::_

There were no responses to my inquiry. Just an array of cat-hued dragon eyes: gold, green, topaz, gray, orange, beryl, bronze.

_::Errm:: _The normally brazen Firewyrm finally, said softly, ::_Well, Toothless... um, of course we are worried. But they are Viking Firemakers. They've been fighting and laughing at danger since they lost their milk teeth. I think they'll be all right for the most part cons-...::_

_::Except for Hiccup!:: _I shot back, before she could continue.

_::I did not imply that,::_ Firewyrm flattened her antennas in slight irritation, :_:I fear and respect him more than I do the other Firemakers. I can defeat any Viking's sword and strength. I cannot defeat Hiccup's keen intuition.:: _She thumped her long, beautifully-ridged tail against the spring ground, _::And, if that beast has any intelligence, so should the Boneknapper they pursue.::_

:_:Please, Toothless?:: _Skybird asked softly,_ ::Trust your Hiccup. He will be all right. He can hold his own, and the other younglings will shield him. They fight as a team, and he's their leader. _::

I shot out my teeth just so I could hiss against them. I admit it makes me look a bit dorky, but it just felt so good to make that rattling noise against my teeth. It summed up my anger quite well.

I snarled_, :: But doesn't it upset you? Don't you feel an ache of loss? You've been disconnected from your Riders! You _must _feel an ache of separation, a longing?::_

They all glanced back at me, eyes level with mine, serious and truth-filled.

_::Uhm, well, actually, no::_ Skybird finally thought-sent solemnly, _::The only thing I feel is a wish for Ástríður to have a good adventure and be safe. And I look forward to her return. But, no, Toothless, I feel no burning ache of loss. I´m sorry, Toothless, but I cannot say something I do not feel. The only internal longing I have is a need to chew some more magnesium for my fire chamber. And for Ástríður to give me a good scratch under my chin where it itches so much!::_

_::HOW CAN YOU THINK OF SUCH TRIVIAL THINGS? :: _ I roared now, good and loud. It was a definite cave cleaner of a roar! I think even the cave's stalagmites would have fled in terror.

_::These are our RIders! Our partners! We're a team! How can you just let them leave and be so casual about it? Is this some sort of holiday for you, some "Dragons' Day Out"? Oh, Goody: you get to have some time off from your pesky Riders! :: _I snorted vilely,_ ::It's good your Riders cannot understand your thoughtspeech, otherwise you'd break their hearts!::_

:_:Peace, brother Firedrake! Dear Nightfurygetdown, I beseech you to curb your inner nightfurygetdown,:: _ Oakheart purred, his soothing voice rich and deep, :_:We long to share with our Firemakers the bond you feel with your Dragon Master. The truth is we do not feel the same thing towards our Firemakers as you feel towards your noble Hiccup. We , indeed, all are honored to carry our good riders. You, however, are the only one of us who bears _a Rider.::

That was news to me! I had assumed they were as closely connected to their riders as Hiccup and I were connected. Of course they would not understand my worry! It filled me with a surprising disappointment in them.

I snorted again and shot up to my feet, trying to keep my thought sendings calm.

:_:I see. Well, thank you for the explanation, Oakheart. That gives me some thing to mull over while I wait for my Rider to come home- or, more likely, what's left of him.::_

_::Toothless!:_: Gracie barked sharply, :_:Don't be getting your undies all twisted in a knot!.:: _she hesitated for a moment, staring down at her green chest in surprise,_ ::Ah, begorrah, now! I really _have_ been hanging around my Firemaker for too long, I have!_::

::_Well, then, you should enjoy having some free time from him,:: _I said snidely, _ ::I need to be alone. I don't like how rude I am getting right now. And I don't want to hurt someone.::_

No one stopped me as I moved away, half flying, half jumping. I could feel their annoying eyes on me, though, along with their annoying concern. And they were right to be concerned. Like any self respecting Lightning Person I can be rather moody. It´s as much of our nature as our plasma bolts. That doesn't mean I like being surly and moody. I actually hate when I am that way, yet it still happens from time to time.

That's when I know I need to head out on my own to an isolated area and let my feelings work their way through. My Rider can be just as moody. It's the flip side of being gentle natured. The anger piles up and Hiccup has to let it explode from time to time. It's rare, but it still happens. Luckily, the Birch Islands and the surrounding hundreds of skerries allow plenty of space where a frustrated Firemaker or his frustrated Nightfurygetdown can go to cool off an angry head.

The harness was still on me, its empty saddle seeming emptier than ever. I ignored the feeling as I made my way back in my hop and skip fashion to the edge of the canyon where Hiccup and I had bonded.

Curling up on canyon edge into my favorite dragonloaf configuration, I stared into the valley and its sparkling lake. The trees on the rims and in the canyon were now lightly fuzzed with leaf buds and with newly "born" golden-green leaves. I heard the calls of early spring birds and saw a pair of ducks drifting in the lake.

Pine needles on the valley floor shifted as a pair of adult squirrels bounded across the ground. One of them halted and started to dig, eventually retrieving a store of nuts hidden away late last summer.

Ah, last summer. It seemed so recent and yet so long ago. Those were the days my Rider and I had come to be warily trust each other and then to partner together in order for me to fly again. I sighed in memory of that season. Those were the worst and best days of my young life. In this valley, under a late summer sun, we'd danced, swum, chased after imaginary foes and played tag. It had been almost like a sanctuary for me, a chance to deal with the loss of my tail fin. But also a chance to discover a new purpose in life. I had been transformed from a cocky, overconfident rebel to the best friend and protector of a compassionate, brilliant Firemaker who was deemed worthless by his own people.

I watched the squirrels, now both at their treasure trove and arguing in squirrel fashion over who got to eat first. I am sure they were using vocabulary their mother would never have taught them. My sensors cannot pick up animal thoughts in detail other than general concepts, but their chattering hisses sounded quite naughty.

I sighed miserably. If Hiccup did not return from his mission, then all I would have left of him would be the memory-ghosts of our too brief time together, buried in this valley like those squirrels had hoarded their store of nuts.

Just memories and both our harnesses on my back. I sighed let my head drop a bit, cat-like as I thought about the incidents that led up to me being left behind while my Hiccup went in search of the Boneknapper.

* * *

><p><em>Earlier...<em>

"Vikings, grab your shields!" Hiccup said softly but firmly into the smokey night air.

It was the preordained signal he and the other teenagers had worked out some time ago to indicate a meeting. He and I had moved swiftly from house to house on foot. Hiccup would thump the door with a special tap code, say that special phrase, and then move on to the next home.

Everyone had been sleeping lightly. They were still filled with high-strung adrenaline from fighting Gobber's fire, so it took little effort to get the other teenagers awake.

Now they ringed around us, fully dressed and lugging the aforementioned shields. The five teenagers were: Snotlout (Firewyrm's rider), Ástríður (Skybird's rider), Fishlegs (Oakheart's friend) and the twins, Ruffnut and Tuffnut (Cloudspinner's riders, each bonded with one of the Double Head's minds. It's hard for me to explain how this works. Double Heads defy logic in general. I don't think about it much because it gives my one head one big headache).

I was the only dragon Person at the gathering, but that did not surprise me too much. The teens did not want to wake up their dragons until they found out more about the meeting. My allies had fought hard against the fire, and the teens wanted them to sleep.

The teens were giving a heroic try at being bright eyed and bushy tailed. They got the bright eyed part down tolerably well, though all their eyes were red-rimmed with lack of sleep. The bushy tailed part was harder to accomplish since Firemakers seem to have forgotten to evolve tails. But Snotlout and Fishlegs did have a growing bristle on their faces, so I guess that would have to do.

Hiccup was now moving his hands skillfully over my harness, double checking that everything was fastened well. He and I had slipped it onto me swiftly the moment we heard Gobber stirring. The middle aged blacksmith had strapped on his artificial leg and arm, both designed to be mounted easily by a man who only had one working flesh and blood hand.

Hiccup had also dressed quickly and quietly,then strapped on his artificial leg, Then he had turned to me to help me finish with the harnessing.

_::Careful there,::_ I had warned him as he got the wrist straps tangled up under my harness, :_:Move the straps out of the way, please.::_

He had not heard me and continued to tighten the harness with my wrist straps trapped beneath the neck collar. I had thought-sent again with no results. Finally I had growled and shifted my shoulder, lightly tapping his head with my wing to make him see the actions.

"Sorry, Toothless," he had whispered and had set the harness back in place again so the wrist straps were free.

I had purred softly and bumped my muzzle against his face. Hiccup's ability to pick up my thought speech is getting better and better, but it is still not so strong, and he often does not receive my messages. So I still have to use non verbal behavior to get the idea across.

We then had heard Gobber gather some supplies near his bed into a spare basket and then whisper softly into the dark. I heard a sheep bleat quietly outside in response and, from the blacksmith´s bed roll, a Sticky Fire person purred.

"Good," Gobber had whispered softly, "They're sleeping. Well, _they_ can rest all they want. _I'm_ puttin' an end ta this Boneknapper business. C´mon, Phil, and you, too, Gracie. We don' need their help, anyway. "

Hiccup had still been shaking out his harness to slip over his shoulders as Gobber opened the door, a travel basket slung over his shoulder and Gracie prancing after him.

Phil, outside, had let out another _baaa_ of joy, and I had heard his hooves clatter as he ran up to join Gobber and Gracie.

Our prey was getting away from us!

Hiccp had hissed in irritation, since he was still trying to get his harness ready to lace on.

"_Djöfulsins!_ Well, there's nothing for it! We hafta move, Toothless!"

He had thrown the harness on his bed and slid into his bearskin cloak, angry at not being able to finish his preparations.

Good thing I had snapped up his harness in my teeth as we exited the house, following our prey.

We moved down the hill from Stoick's house, keeping track of the blacksmith and his dragon and sheep companion.

Smoke still was drifting through the dawning sky, clouding my sensors with its intrusive, sharp odor. It also caused both Hiccup and I to blink our eyes. Hiccup scrubbed his eyelids with the heel of a hand. I blinked and then used my Rider´s bony shoulder to rub my head and clear my eyes. He laughed and hugged me, punching me playfully on the side of my neck.

Gobber and his companions were now down at the harbor, stashing their supplies on the small longboat. The blacksmith gave the boat the old once over inspection, including the mandatory Rubbing of the Carved Dragon Prow´s nose To Insure Good Luck on the Journey.

As he did this, the other Viking teen Firemakers finished gathering around Hiccup and I. Red-gray strips of dawn now began to stain the sky. The Sky Lady was lighting her embers for a new day. It was the red hue that indicated there might be rain later in the day.

My Firemaker now noticed I had grabbed his riding harness and now gripped it in my impressive teeth. Laughing and rubbing my nose in appreciation, he gently pulled the harness from my muzzle. He quickly rolled and clipped it to the hooks and straps behind my saddle cantle where packs and extra clothing could be stored.

The powerfully built, handsome Snotlout broke the silence, "So, hey, Hiccup, why get us up after our beauty rest?"

The dark haired teen rubbed one side of his stubbled jaw, "You know I need my eight hours of sleep in order to be at my most effective for hunting missions. And I am not referring to hunting pheasant or geese. Though the prey _is_ two legged."

"AHEM" both Ástríður and Ruffnut coughed and glared at Snotlout. Two hands went to two dagger sheathes and two _SNIKKTS_ filled the air.

Snotlout laughed nervously and stepped back.

"Sorry. Take it easy, would ya, ladies? Can't a guy have a sense of humor around this backwater island?

Apparently he had some sort of illusion that he was an alpha Firemaker, so he needed to strut before unmated Firemaker females. It probably works on the average teenage Norse woman, but Ruffnut and Ástríður had grown up with Snotlout, and they were not impressed. They knew all his dark secrets.

They also had an exact count of how many times they had succeeded in beating him up by taking advantage of his blinding arrogance.

I found the dark haired young Norseman´s preening hilarious, if not a monumental waste of the boy's time and energy. Everyone knew Hiccup was the alpha teen dragonrider of the Birch Island Firemakers. Based on his Lightning Person-like small size, speed and intellect that was obvious.

Still, Snotlout seemed to function under an illusion that he was the (and, let´s see if I remember this quote right-) _the gods' gift to the desperately deprived young women of Berk._

_Tcha!_ I failed to see why Firemakers prefer electing the big, lumbering, aggressive and boastful members of their kind as their alpha males. How in the name of the Sky Lady were they able to make it that far as a species with that kind of backwoods attitude? Especially considering every great advance they made in their evolution was due to their brains, not because of their, "ME BIG! ME GO SMASH!" attitude.

Without their more brainy, Hiccup-like Firemakers, I think they would have clubbed each other to death with the leg bones of their recently killed victims way back when they roamed the grasslands of Africa in hairy packs.

Luckily, the Berk Islanders now have not only Hiccup but the shining, guiding influence of my dragon People (especially we Nightfurygetdowns) to keep them out of trouble.

Hiccup's nasally yet confidant voice interrupted my rather jingoistic thoughts, "Hey, Snotlout. Happy morning to you, too. You look just fine. Don´t change. Ever. Well, at least not in the next few hours. I need your Viking courage and strength."

Snotlout grinned and hefted his shield, "But, of course! Right here, Hiccup! Viking courage and strength at your service!"

"Excellent, ´Lout. Glad to have you on our team! Well, we're going to help protect Gobber. He's just below us on the purple dragon headed small craft at the docks. See him stashing his gear? He´s trying to sneak out of the village. He wants to take on the Boneknapper he thinks burned his house down."

"I think he should take on the hair of the dog that bit him, instead," Tuffnut said casually, gracing his kind words with a sharp-toothed yawn.

Behind him his sister snickered with a soft, growl-like laugh, "Yeh, but it would be an awful lot of dog hairs given his weird behavior. Heh. He has to lay off the _brennivín_. I _knew_ there was a moonshine still under the blacksmith shed!"

"Yes! Hey, wait, Ruffnut! If you knew it, why didn't you tell me about it? We could have done some creative moonshine liberation! It´s been ages since I tried to pick a lock. And this dull, sheep-infested island could use a good party!"

Next to the girl twin, Ástríður shook her head and looked up through her wayward blond forelock at the dawning sky. I could see her mouthing what seemed like a series of Firemaker numbers, a long suffering expression on her face.

Hiccup shook his own shaggy head in eagerness to get ahead with the mission.

"C'mon, guys. Where's your sense of Viking pride? Gobber´s our friend! We can't let him go on his own and get hurt! It's our job to protect him. My dad is behind this all the way, so this is our chance to be a team again!" Hiccup sighed and tossed his long hair from his eyes. He had forgotten to put on his head band in his haste to get going. The crazy hair was not lending him a very brave and bold leader look.

Useless Firemaker hair. They forget to grow tails and fur. Instead they cultivate soft but useless scalp hair that grows into long and useless ropes they have to tie back in order to see clearly. They really have no idea about how mammals are supposed to function.

Hiccup continued, "We haven't had any real sort of adventure all winter beyond a couple of hunting trips, so it'll be good for us all to get back in shape. Much more fun than keeping in shape by running laps in the snow with baskets of stones on our back**.** And, even more... we might see a Boneknapper! What if they _are _real? Think of the Sagas the skálds on in the Norse Lands would tell about us, the ferocious teenage warriors from the outlands who saw the first Boneknapper in the flesh- uh- er- skeleton!"

Four pairs of Viking Firemaker eyes flashed. Nothing gets a Viking motivated like the chance to be remembered in a Saga tale.

And finding a Boneknapper would be pure Saga gold!

One pair of grey Viking eyes did not flash as Snotlout sighed and laid his shield on the ground. He crossed his muscled arms across his broad chest, his attitude showing he was not impressed.

"I think I´ll pass on this venture. I like fighting as much as the next barbarian, Hiccup, but going out in search of a deadly dragon on the drop of a helmet with no preparation? And I obviously won´t be able to bring Firewyrm on that dinky little excuse of a boat. So that means we'll take on a dragon without our dragons and possibly trapped on a boat in the sea? We'd do better to pour cooking oil on ourselves and stand in front of the watchtower fires. Same result and we don´t have to leave home. Nuh-uh. _Alls ekki_. No way…."

"_Yes_, way, Snotlout!" the sturdy Fishlegs said, waving his meaty fists in excitement,"It'll be awesome, and think of all the girls who will be impressed by you when we go to the _Alþingi Meeting _ in Iceland this summer! You'd be _the_ man! And I´d be the one who could get to update the Dragon Manual section on Boneknappers! And we'd learn how they get those bones on them _and_ if their roar really melts the…"

Gobber heard the soft whispers and called up from the ship, "Who´s there? And be careful how ya answer! I have one arm and a very, very, nasty hand-hook that´s pleased to meet you face ta face. "

"It's me! Hiccup!" Hiccup said firmly back to his mentor, "I'm here with Toothless and Snotlout, Ástríður, Fishlegs, Tuffnut and Ruffnut. We've just elected to join your Boneknapper mission. And you can´t say no, Gobber. You've been outvoted."

For a moment there was silence, then Gobber stood straight up in the boat, Gracie and Phil looking on from the nearby dock, "True Vikings y'are," he said finally, his voice strangely gravelly, "I just want ya kids to know it touches my heart, ye all helpin´me ta slay the Boneknapper."

He swept a finger from his good hand across an eye and looked away for a moment. Then he looked back, his face split in a grin, but tears shining in his blue eyes. Just for a moment I saw the familiar, impish blacksmith I liked. Then his eyes glazed over in that weird, dazed stare.

"What are friends for? We stick up for each other, and that includes you, Gobber," Hiccup said with his oddly endearing, horse-toothed smile.

Behind him, the twins, Fishlegs, and Ástriður called out "YES!"

I gave a soft purring rumble to add my support.

Ástríður smiled and pat my shoulder. I nudged her shoulder in return. We´re good mates, she and I. Even if she can be a little bit of a sobersides crossed with an Amazon warrior at times. She's been a loyal best friend to Hiccup and adamant about making sure I am treated well by the village Firemakers.

Snotlout calmly declared, "Uh... no. Not me! There's no way I am getting on a boat to go after a fake dragon!"

"An´ yer absolutely right, Snotlout, me boy. Ya shouldna´ go on a boat after a fake dragon," Gobber said cheerfully as he retied a knot on one of the sail masts, "I agree with ye totally on that. However, in our case, we're goin´ on a boat after a real dragon!"

My keen sensors heard the sound of Snotlout´s facepalm very clearly.

He continued to be surly and adamant about not joining the mission. He sat on a barrel of pickled herring near the harbormaster´s shed as the other teens helped Gobber stash some supplies into the boat. Hopefully it would be a short mission, but still one could never take any chances, so the Vikings could not skimp on the supplies.

I had not really paid much attention to this type of boat before, since it was overshadowed by the larger merchant_ knörr_ vessels and warrior longboats. Oh, I had seen them- they were the most numerous type of boats in the harbor- but I´d never really taken the time to record information on them. This type of boat was smaller and flatter than the other Norse ships, but the construction of it still followed the curvingl lines of the other Viking boats. It had a small sail and six oars. Supplies could be stashed in holds on either end of the ship.

I crouched on the dock and nudged at the bobbing prow, breathing in the spicy smell of the wood, the lovely salt of the sea and the primal scent of barnacles.

"Is this the first time you've ever been up close to a f_æring_, Toothless?" Fishlegs' soft, gravelly voice spoke behind me.

I looked back to see him with a barrel of water secured over one of his powerful shoulders. The look he gave me was respectul. He always approached any of my People with respect and awe. He was one of the few Berk Firemakers who spoke to we dragon People as equals, and his ways were encouraging other villagers to do the same.

Deliberately I nodded and gave him my trademark gummy grin.

The young blond teen cracked a grin, "Yeh, the _færingar_ are small ships, but they´re good. They can pull into tight, coastal areas for fishing the big ships can't", He jerked a head at the bobbing _knörr _and longboats nearby, "I give the _færingar_ plus fifteen for speed and agility. And this one will get us where we need to go, I think. Ástríður´s dad makes the best _færingar_ this side of Norway."

Fishlegs moved gently by me and lowered the barrel into the boat. It thudded against the bottom, "Though I still cannot understand why Hófgeir the Shipwright has to paint his dragon head prows such hideous colors." He wrinkled his nose at the bright purple dragon head prow where Hiccup was running a hand over the brim to check for any possible ship damage that could affect our journey.

Finally the tall, broad fisherman´s son shrugged, "Well, I guess you would expect that from Vestfold Vikings. They tend to be more fashion conscious in Southern Norway. I mean, they are so obsessed with putting all that weird detail work on their boats."

That was something Hiccup and Ástríður often joked about. Her father, Hófgeir, did indeed love to do what he called _detail work_. It was apparently very popular in the more urbane Vestfold region, but it did not fit well with the more conservative and isolated North Atlantic Vikings. Hófgeir´s family boats were all very easy to spot in our harbor. They were the only ones that had bright yellow and red stylized, horizontal flames painted along the sides.

Ástríður, surprisingly, loved the designs and enjoyed teasing Hiccup about not understanding the manly art of detail work on sports longboats. Hiccup and I didn't get it, but then we are not from the more trendy Vestfold region.

Hófgeir had kindly offered to paint blue and violet flames on my harness and also suggested that Hiccup might want to hang some interesting, soft-textured, Asian good luck talisman items from the hand grip. I believe he called them "fuzzy dice."

That may have been the first time I have seen my Rider totally incapable of firing off a sarcastic remark. As a matter of fact, he could not say anything for half a day afterwards he´d been so flabbergasted.

The big question in my mind was if the ship could hold me. It was not a big ship. I know for certain it would not hold any of the other People except Gracie. There would not be a lot of room for me, especially since Gobber insisted on bringing along that scorching four-horned sheep. But if Hiccup took the front bench then there was some good space between that bench and the prow that I could lie very, very flat on the deck. It would be quite uncomfortable and I would be wedged in with bundles of flatbread and dried meat and fish, but at least I would be near my Rider.

"So, what's the travel plan?" Ástríður asked Gobber as she helped him stow some tackle equipment under the second bench.

Gobber grinned back at her, "We sail and sail and sail until we find the Boneknapper."

I heard a sarcastic snort from Snotlout on the herring barrel.

"Yeh, man, but how do we know when we find the Boneknapper?" Tuffnut asked, pulling Fishleg's barrel of water over to one of the ship's keel gunnels so he could secure it in place with leather straps. (I had been learning these definitions of ship terms from my constant data collecting. Being the nerd Person I am, I enjoy collecting information and hoarding it.)

"Easy, " said Fishlegs as he climbed into the ship to help Tuffnut, "You'll know we're close when your ears _explode_ from its piercing screams. Legend says this dragon's roar is so fierce, it can melt the flesh _right off your bones!_"

Fishlegs had the joyful expression of The Nerd in Paradise as he made a hand gesture that eloquently simulated flesh and skin trickling rapidly down like rain.

Everyone else glanced at him with revulsion. That made Fishlegs mightily pleased with himself, so he added, "I think it would be something like a plus 10 agony for Death Throes. Just epic. Well, maybe not if you were one the dying, but in theory it would be just epic."

Everyone glanced with revulsion... except for one Firemaker.

"Not so, Fishlegs." Gobber said firmly as he lifted Phil into the boat. The sheep showed his fascination with this adventure by flopping down, closing his eyes and chewing his cud. He released some stress by yawning.

I rolled my eyes as Gracie flew onto my saddle and watched the proceedings.

"Huh?" Fishlegs now said and let his jaw hang open in surprise. It was not a pretty sight, "But, the manual says..."

"I've seen a Boneknapper, and I know better!" Gobber interjected firmly, "And I'm here ta tell ya, laddybuck, that the Boneknapper _has no roar at all!_"

All of us- including me- leaned forward, gasping in surprise. Gracie chirped in wonder.

Even Phil was surprised. He opened his eyes for a quarter of a second and then closed them again.

Gobber loomed over us, spreading his arms, inviting us to share his awe of this mysterious Boneknapper Person.

"Indeed, kiddies. The Boneknapper canna´ roar. Tha's why it's so terrifyin'!"

The blacksmith lowered his voice so that it matched the deep hum of the wind blowing through the harbor, "The Boneknapper is a silent killer."

He allowed us all a moment to gasp in respect (and Phil to yawn in boredom) before gesturing, "Well, we canna' wait. We must move on it if we are ta bring the vile beastie down!"

Last arrangements were made. Shields were strapped along the sides of the boat. The sail was raised. Viking teens took their places at the oars.

Snotlout continued to protest about participating, and Fishlegs politely offered to move him and the herring barrel onto the ship.

It was time for me to board. I watched as Hiccup slid onto the bobbing boat. I pretended not to cringe at the twin sounds of a boot and a metal prosthetic hitting the deck.

Hiccup flailed his arms for a moment as he adjusted his body to the pitch of the boat. Having only one working leg made it harder for him, bit he did recover his balance tolerably well, grabbing at the nearest gunwale for support.

"I may be a Viking, but I´m not built for this, Toothless," he joked with me as he managed to balance himself, "I'd rather be flying anyday."

I could not agree more.

He stuck out his right arm and scratched me under the jaw, "Well, now's the time, Toothless. Hop aboard!"

I glanced at the boat and felt a surprising lump arise in my throat. An unexpected shiver ran up my spine as my sides clenched in fear.

The last time I had been on a Viking Firemaker boat I had been a prisoner, chained and bound into a barricade of wood. It had been a horrifying experience of seasickness, loneliness, fear. Then I had been trapped as fire billowed around me and I could not escape. After that, I had been cast into the frigid ocean to float downdowndown to the bottom, imprisoned in my wooden bindings. And my lungs burning with no air, spots dancing in my eyes, my view of the sky high above the rippling sea fading as I slowly drowned...

I actually felt my legs trembling. I growled softly, chiding myself to buck out of this silly emotion.

"Toothless," Hiccup´s gentle voice warmed my heart and his small, capable hand warmed the side of my face, "What's the matter, bud? Are you okay?"

_Come on, Nightfurygetdown! You can do this! You helped to defeat the Lady. Surely you can sit on a stupid little færing boat or whatever it's called. It's a lifeless boat. It can't bite you! It can't breathe fire. Why are you scared of it? Toothless, ´fess up, now, drake: are you a dinky little lizard or a proud dragon Person?_

That's when the new thought voice slid through my sensors.

_::Are you leaving the island so soon, Lightning Breather? Did I scare you away? How rude of me! I was hoping we could spend some quality time chatting about Signaling together!::_

It was the same voice who had intercepted my Signaling last night.

:_:YOU! How dare you intrude on my Signal territory!:_: I snarled and heard Hiccup, Ástríður, Fishlegs and Ruffnut all gasp in surprise.

"Toothless?" Hiccup asked softly, his hand still stretched out in invitation, "Are you coming?"

_::I'm right here, so close to you I could spit on you, little Lightning Person-Signaler. Come and see. We have so much to talk about. Let's chat, shall we? Oh, and do let me know how well I have been doing when I imitate your Signals. I'd love to hear your opinion!::_

"Toothless? What's wrong, bud?" Hiccup asked again.

_::Now, be nice to the Lightning Person-Signaler, Self number One. He was here before you were. Don't tease him.::_ another thought message sliced across my sensors but in the very same frequency, _::You're being very condescending to him.::_

::_Sorry, Self Number Two. I can't help it. I take pride in my work, and I do think the Lightning Person needs some improvement in his style. Right, Lightning Person? I really do think I could take over for him and do much bett_er, just between you me, Self::

_::No you can't.::_

_::Can, too._::

::_Impostor!::_ I roared, just as I realized both conflicting thought voices were coming from the same Thought voice. Was the creature arguing with itself?

I was used to Cloudspinner, the Double Head who had bonded with Tuffnut and Ruffnut, and his odd way of voicing opinions from each of his heads. In his case, I always had the impression he was one entity with two minds. This voice seemed to be one mind with two entities!

I glanced at Hiccup as he watched me from the swaying boat, his green eyes widened in bewilderment. No doubt, my green eyes were the same level of bewilderment. Behind him I could see Ástríður and Ruffnut watching me in quiet anticipation of my response.

I was in a real dilemma. Here was Gobber, sailing off to find the Boneknapper. And also here was the strange being who had stolen my identity and put me and my Signaler colleagues at risk.

_::This is boring. I´m leaving, Lightning Person. Catch me if you can!::_

_::Awww, you're being mean, Self Two. Let him have some time to decide.::_

_::No! And shut up. I'm in charge.:: _A dragon laugh, :_:I'm out of here! Don't worry, Lightning Person. I'll take good care of your territory and Signal for you while you are on your mission. Have a nice voyag_e.::

:_:You're mean, Self Number One::_

_::Shut up, you annoying nemesis! When I want your opinion I´ll give it to you, Number Two! Well, bye, bye Lightning Person!::_

That did it! I was facing not one intruder, but several, it seemed.

I tossed Hiccup an apologetic look, :_:Sorry, Firemaker. I have to take care of this. But I'll be right back! Wait for me!::_

Then I turned and leapt in the direction of the thought voices.

"Toothless! What are you doing?" Hiccup's fear-laced voice floated after me as I galloped up the harbor embankment and followed the voices.

_::I'm okay, Firemaker! Just wait for me!::_

I chased the voices, cursing how close they rang to my sensors and yet how I could not close in on their location. I galloped along the shoreline, my sensors and memory stone open to the fullest,as were my wings.

A few times I leapt into the air and coasted on breezes, quickly scanning the landscape for intruders.

But I smelled nothing, heard nothing, saw nothing. My only clues were the taunting thought voices that thrummed along my sensors.

I pursued the calling, laughing, mocking thought voices diligently. I needed to catch this being who was posing such a threat not only to me but to all of us North Atlantic Signalers!

My mind seemed to narrow in on itself, surrounded by a haze of red and of mocking voices. It helped me to concentrate better as I followed the voices, charging up a slope, higher and higher. Time seemed to fade away as I focused only on the Chase.

And then fresh air hit me, clear and pure, moist with clouds and sweet with the scent of sea. Golden light tinged the air from the emerging sun.

I realized I was now perched on the highest point of Birch Island and I had galloped up here in record time. The high winds kept vegetation from growing up here except for grasses and mosses, so I could see there was absolutely no strange dragon Person mocking me in the area.

I could also see a small Viking _færing _boat sailing steadily out to sea, sails hoisted and six oars plying the water.

It danced on the sea amid sparkling waves as the sun broke above the ocean and moved from dawn into morning.

Gobber, Hiccup and the others had set sail without me.

I had just been parted from my Firemaker for the first time since our bonding. He was sailing into danger, and I had let him sail on without me.

I tilted my head back and roared into the sunrise, my cry echoing along the rocks.

* * *

><p>The other People had come to me, all offering comfort.<p>

Hiccup had been torn in two, Gracie assured me. He wanted to wait for me, but Gobber suddenly pressed harder to take off on the journey and had hauled up the anchor. Besides- and I had to agree with this reluctantly- my actions had looked as though I had run off suddenly, as if I were gripped by fright and fleeing from the boat in terror.

What else was my Rider to think? I had tossed a thought to him to wait, but he was still not that good at reading my thoughts. What if he had not picked up on it? From my nonverbal behavior, I sure had looked like I was bolting in fear, indicating I did not want to take part in the mission.

It had been hard on Hiccup, but he was forced to pick and choose. And, since I had run off as though I chose to stay in the village and Gobber was choosing to leave in search of the evil Boneknapper, he had to go with the one who faced more danger at the moment.

And that was Gobber.

I cursed myself a thousand times for this. Poor Hiccup. He had chosen the way I would have in his position since he did not know my mind speech well enough to know why I had run from the boat.

The other dragons surrounded me, purring in support as I glided and walked back down into the village. A numb ache was in my heart. If I had been a whole Lightning Person I could have sailed after the boat, still perched on the distant horizon. But without Hiccup I could not fly that distance without being knocked off balance and tumbling into the ocean.

It was so hard to watch! I had let Hiccup down! But yet I needed to help my People.

Why does life have to have such difficult choices?

Gracie was my biggest salvation. At the last moment several things had happened. I had run off. Fishlegs and Tuffnut had manhandled Snotlout aboard. Gobber had lifted the anchor and pushed the boat into motion. And Gracie, with a little trill and head rub against Gobber's face, had flown back to shore. He had apparently stroked her neck and let her go. Like Hiccup, he knew his little dragon Person was an intelligent being. If Gracie chose to stay back on shore, he would not keep her.

His glazed eyes still did creep out Gracie, though. While he was as kind to her and Phil as ever, something about his unfocused attitude unnerved her.

_::Something is making him act odd,:: _she had told me just before I started blowing up stones she tossed at me to help me curb my anger, _::I came back here to comfort you, boyo, but I´m wonderin' if that voice you mention and me Rider's odd behavior is somehow related. It's all banjaxed if ye ask me, Toothless.::_

She snorted in anger, _::Makes me realize if I stick with you, then I'm gettin' some answers to this mystery. So, yer stuck with me, ya darlin' eejit.:_

* * *

><p>So, now you know why I was here and Hiccup was there and why I was so upset.<p>

I sighed and looked into the valley. The squirrels were still having their argument, but then they both looked up at the sky and cried out in shock.

I must have been tired from the long night fighting the fire and launching the boat. And, like Hiccup, I was still mending slowly from our near fatal battle with the Red Death. I was off my game, let´s face it.

That's the only excuse I can give for what happened next.

I did not sense the Person until it was on me. My only signs were a loud THUMP on my shoulders and then seeing the ground drop away below my feet.

Wind gusted up along my belly, blowing the straps of my harness into the air. I heard claws digging tighter into the leather of my saddle as I was lifted higher and higher.

The saddle's straps and belts pressed against my chest as the Person used it to pull me higher. It was painful and kept me from drawing a deep breath.

I roared in anger and struggled, not able to draw in enough air to fire off a blast of plasma above me.

Besides, if I hit the Person and he/she let go of me, then who would be there to help me to fly before I went splat on the ground below?

_::Brilliant, Toothless!:: I_ cursed myself. I tried to bite at at the hard-ridged dragon chest above me, but my sharp teeth just glanced off of a strange, hard object encasing the legs.

Bone. The dragon's legs and chest were encased in a webbing of bones. And bones that gave off the smells of dozens of my People. I scented Lava People, Sand Spitters, Sticky Fire People, Self Burners, Magnesium Burners, Thunder People, Tree Shearers, Double Heads... so many, many scents wound into a confusing miasma.

Somewhere in all that mess was even the scent of a Lightning Person´s bones.

I struggled and struggled, reaching, biting, kicking, thrashing my tail. It was not my nature to accept my fate blindly. Somewhere in my struggles my teeth managed to sink into a bit of flesh that was uncovered by bone. I dug in, trying to ignore the salty blood taste that filled my mouth.

Even the blood seemed to bear the scents of many, many types of dragons.

I felt one of the legs loosen from my saddle. A heavy, bone capped paw smashed along my head.

Bright lights burst along my head from the impact. I moaned in anger and looked at the ocean waves beneath me, watching as a dark fog crept in from the sides of my vision and covered the view.

Then I knew nothing more.

* * *

><p>Aching head and chest. Waves crashing against shore. Seabirds calling in cries that my sensors could not translate. Wind buffeting through holed rocks, creating whistles not so unlike Firemaker flutes.<p>

_::Scorch it. I have to lay off the late night celebrations. Was Skygrass involved? Oh, crud.::_ I cracked my eyes open

A wind scoured, rocky beach lay in front of me, waves dancing over the stones. The waves left behind lacy sheens of sea-foam and bits of seaweed and shells.

All memories of the previous day rushed back to me.

I blinked, forcing each eye´s gummed three lids to open fully.

_Where am I?_

I lay on my left side, my wings crumpled around me, as if I had been dropped on the shore. I flexed them; they were sore, but nothing more serious than some muscle aches. My head ached and the saddle itched. Other than that, I was fine.

I sighed in relief and then sneezed. Droplets from my nose struck against objects on either side of me- large ivory barricades that cradled around my sides and back half like a protective shelter. They were oddly leg-shaped.

A huge paw cased in a web work of bones lay in front of my nose, effectively blocking me from trying to run forward. I could see patches of a beautiful deep emerald green poking in and out of gaps in the bone webbing, but they were few and far between.

Then I realized what sort of Person was holding me caged with its body and front legs.

_::You should have stayed with me, HIccup,::_ I thought sent wearily, knowing there was no chance my lost Rider would ever hear my thoughts, :_:Turns out I was the one to find the Boneknapper, in the end.::_

"G´mornin, dragon!" A cheerful Firemaker's voice floated to my ears, "And it's a lovely day, no? Rise and shine. Wakey! Wakey!"

_What?_

I snarled softly.

I felt a dragon's chest now behind my body, and it rumbled back with a growl, as well. It was a friendly reminder that I was pretty much surrounded in case I decided to attack the friendly Firemaker.

Halting, limping foot steps rang out against the sea stones of the beach as a Firemaker approached. Above me, the bone clad Person rumbled and then purred.

I could pick up no thoughts from him or her, but the purr indicated pure contentment.

_Well, good for you, dragon. If you're so happy, why not let me go so I can be happy, too?_

"Who's a good dragon, now?" the Firemaker's voice crooned in Norse, and I heard Firemaker hands scratching against bone and hide and an even deeper purring response from the dragon Person," You brought the black dragon to me and ever so gently, too. You're a good one, you are."

The Person holding me hostage purred louder and louder.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. I _do_ hate over-sentimental, fluffy moments.

Then the foot steps stopped in front of me.

"There you are, young blue-black dragon-Person Right on time. So nice you could join us." the Firemaker said in a gentle voice to me.

I blinked my eyes and focused.

When I saw the Firemaker, I could not help but growl in surprise.

It was Gobber.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

I like to be historically accurate, but I sometimes like to spoof history, too. I am pretty sure Vikings did not paint auto detail work flames on their boats- or use fuzzy dice, but I do know they liked to decorate most of their furniture and boats with macho carved geometric images. But Astrid's father is ahead of time, like Hiccup, but in a sillier, more NASCAR sort of way. Dice- well, Vikings used animal bones to toss for their fortune, but I went with the dice joke. Writing this chapter, I learned dice are very old and originated in Asia. I do love trivia. It helps keep that image of me as insane alive and well.

It took forever for uploading this chapter, and I feel bad about that. It took longer for things to slow down for the summer at work compared to this time last year- special offers and all to encourage more people to visit Iceland in Sep and Oct so I had less free time than I anticipated. My brother the Jesuit priest came to visit for a few days, so I was going with him to visit some pretty cool places in New England, especially in Maine. And we saw a wonderful, hilarious Pythoneqeue performance of SHakespeare's "As You Like It" performed free of charge on the Boston Common. Beantown's a great city for offering such wonderful entertainment in its parks free of charge. Also had to get some furniture set up in the apartment. And I got a case of writer's block on top of that, courtesy of hot and humid days that wore me out. (I hate heat. blargh)

Hope I am better about uploading the next chapters as the days get cooler again. I'm also looking forward to getting back to Iceland again, and also the Faroe Islands next month. Go Sheep Islands! If it's not Faroese, it's crrrrap.

Thank you, all of you, for supporting me. I've enjoyed your reviews, comments and your PMs with suggestions on scientific theories. I feel priveleged you are reading my story. Hope I can get the next chapter up sooner.


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